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The conservationist's eyes scan over miles of dense fields, searching for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a spot to hide in the grasslands. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing has yet to wake. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, the sound of footsteps emerges. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.

China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major flyways they follow converge in China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so delicate you can hardly spot them.

The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a tiny bird was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

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

So he gathered a team who were concerned and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He recalls 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."

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

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

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

It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

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

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

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

He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but support has waned because of the economic situation.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes 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 aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can catch hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the penalties 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 Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Busted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have created their own market.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

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

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had congregated 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 appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his