Silva Gu's vision darts over vast expanses of open meadows, looking for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.
He utters a muted voice as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the grasslands. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, we hear only the quiet of the morning.
Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.
Trapped
Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.
They have benefited from the extended daylight in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.
The nation hosts over 1500 bird species, representing roughly 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.
This particular field where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among towering rows of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so delicate you can barely see them.
The one we nearly walked into was strung across half the length of the field and held up with bamboo poles. At its center, a tiny bird was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its environment.
Hunting the Hunters
The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.
"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he remarks.
So he gathered a team who were concerned and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that catching poachers also led to uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.
"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.
His passion for avian life started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.
He remembers roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."
Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not protected zones to conserve.
The change stunned Silva. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the ecosystems they sustained.
"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.
It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.
"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and beat me up," 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 covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky 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 can't do it part-time."
He says fundraising covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.
So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.
He studies 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 stop for the night. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch scores 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 often affluent."
While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits 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. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.
"This generation often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once people's attitudes are set, they're extremely difficult to change."
Disrupted
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.
Another man stands outside a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.
This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.
The area alongside the water extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.
Information suggested that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. It was easy to find.
Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.
But today there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his