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The activist's eyes scan across vast expanses of open meadows, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a spot to hide in the fields. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Caught

Overhead, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough 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 northern regions, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.

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

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

The one we nearly walked into was strung across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a tiny bird was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

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

Tracking the Trappers

The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty 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 urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"In the early days, authorities were indifferent," he states.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and formed a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

He remembers wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

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

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

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

He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

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

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness 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 tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

The area by the river stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

But on this occasion there would be no sales because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his