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The conservationist's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, hunting for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in less than a whisper as the team seeks a spot to hide in the grasslands. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to warmer places to breed and eat.

There are over 1500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow converge in China.

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

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

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across half the length of the field and held up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

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 ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

The conservationist, in his thirties, carries out this mission 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 persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he states.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that the response is not uniform.

His passion for avian life started in childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

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

China's booming economy brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered areas for development, not protected zones to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I made the choice 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 assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must give it your all. You cannot be half-hearted."

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

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the paths created by the poachers. He maps those 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.

"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 wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the fines to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. 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 committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about the environment. Once people's attitudes are set, they're really hard to change."

Busted

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 tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The area by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional 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 sales because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his