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The activist's vision darts over vast expanses of open meadows, hunting for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, we hear only the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to warmer places to nest and feed.

There are over 1500 bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major flyways they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland in question, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among towering rows of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "mist nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.

A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and held up with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Hunting the Hunters

The conservationist, in his thirties, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he enlisted helpers who did care and established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police found that catching poachers also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that the response is not uniform.

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

He remembers wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered areas for development, not protected zones to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I decided back then to work in conservation and I took this path," he says.

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

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

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

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

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies aerial photos to find the paths worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, 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 sales because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his