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The conservationist's eyes scan across vast expanses of open meadows, searching for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He utters less than a whisper as we try to find a concealed position in the grasslands. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Overhead, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they head to warmer places to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major paths they follow converge in China.

This particular field where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

The trap we stumbled upon was strung across a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

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

Tracking the Trappers

Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Initially, no-one cared," he says.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and invited the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that implementation remains inconsistent.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

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

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not sanctuaries to preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I followed this course," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva remembers. 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 requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to address this major issue, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but support has waned because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity 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 trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

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

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

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

But on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. 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