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The conservationist's vision darts over miles of tall grassland, looking for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a muted voice as the team seeks a spot to hide in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The poachers are here.

Trapped

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have utilized the extended daylight in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year winds down and cold breezes bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.

There are more than 1,500 bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow cross through China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among clusters of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered 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 escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem.

Pursuing the Poachers

Silva, who is in his 30s, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he says.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and established a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and invited the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of advocacy have shown results. The police realized that catching poachers also helped in uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.

"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a much changed capital.

He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

China's booming economy brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not protected zones to conserve.

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

"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I followed this course," 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 assembled several of his accomplices who confronted 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 army of volunteers over the years. This work demands patience and night vigils. Silva says not many are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

On a long low wall 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 valuable, 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 path by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

Information suggested that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.

But on this occasion there would be no sales 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