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Silva Gu's eyes scan across vast expanses of tall grassland, hunting for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He utters a muted voice as they attempt to locate a concealed position in the fields. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they journey to southern locales to breed and eat.

China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the global population – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect in China.

This particular field in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among forests of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so thin you can almost miss them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Tracking the Trappers

Silva, who is in his 30s, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who did care and formed a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police realized that catching poachers also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He recalls roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as land for construction, not conservation areas to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines satellite imagery to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the fines to punish the crime do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are breaking the law, or grasp that numerous birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about the environment. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Busted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

A separate individual is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

The path by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But today there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his