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The conservationist's gaze sweeps over miles of open meadows, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He utters less than a whisper as we try to find a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. The hunters have arrived.

Trapped

Overhead, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, consuming bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to southern locales to nest and feed.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow converge in China.

This particular field being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

The one we nearly walked into was extending over a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

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

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

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

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and launched a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

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

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

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

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not protected zones to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.

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

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

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but support has waned because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He studies aerial photos to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a premium," 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 deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits of trapping and trading songbirds.

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

This custom that continues mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

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

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had congregated 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 taking names. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his