Silva Gu's vision darts over miles of dense fields, looking for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.
He speaks in a muted voice as we try to find a concealed position in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, we hear only the quiet of the morning.
Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Trapped
Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.
They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to warmer places to breed and eat.
The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow intersect in China.
The area of meadow being monitored, 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 towering rows of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so thin you can almost miss them.
A net we almost encountered was strung across a large section of the field and supported with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.
Hunting the Hunters
Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.
"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he remarks.
So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and launched a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and invited the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police found that catching poachers also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.
"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.
Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.
He remembers wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."
Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not conservation areas to preserve.
The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.
"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I took this path," he says.
It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.
"He gathered several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.
He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.
"I do this full-time," 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 donations pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.
So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.
He studies 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 aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can catch hundreds of small birds at night.
"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."
While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.
This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.
"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."
Busted
On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.
A separate individual is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.
This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.
The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.
We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.
Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a traditional dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.
But today there would be no sales because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his
