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The conservationist's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, searching for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters less than a whisper as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the fields. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

In the skies above us, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they head to southern locales to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so thin you can barely see them.

A net we almost encountered was stretched across half the length of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Back in 2015, authorities were indifferent," he says.

So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and established a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized public meetings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

His passion for avian life started in childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He remembers roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not sanctuaries to conserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.

"I made the choice back then to work in conservation and I chose this direction," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many 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 commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the routes created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can catch scores of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Apprehended

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

Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to dentures.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.

But on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. 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