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The activist's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of tall grassland, hunting for any movement in the inky blackness.

He speaks in less than a whisper as the team seeks a place of cover in the fields. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Trapped

Overhead, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to nest and feed.

China is home to 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major migration routes they follow cross through China.

This particular field where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so delicate you can barely see them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a small finch was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, 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 decade persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he states.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that the response is not uniform.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

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

Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as land for construction, not conservation areas to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.

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

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies aerial photos to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths 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.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues 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 status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that numerous birds had to die 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 practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness 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 tiny twittering birds.

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

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

The area by the river stretches for 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. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played 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 black fabric.

But today there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his