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The conservationist's gaze sweeps across miles of open meadows, looking for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a spot to hide in the fields. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten before dawn, the sound of footsteps emerges. 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 journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the long summer days in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and chilling gusts bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

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 cross through China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the edges 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 "fine nets", so delicate you can hardly spot them.

The trap we stumbled upon was strung across a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Initially, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who did care and established a group known as 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 have shown results. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.

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

China's booming economy brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not sanctuaries to conserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I chose this direction," he says.

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

"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. 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 few people are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the trails created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes 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 during darkness.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

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

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once adults' values are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

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

A separate individual stands outside a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

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

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

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing 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 covered in black fabric.

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