On the Trail Poachers That Illegally Capture the Nation's Rare Wild Birds.

Silva Gu's eyes scan across miles of open meadows, searching for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in less than a whisper as we try to find a concealed position in the grasslands. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, we hear footsteps. The poachers are here.

Snared

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have utilized the extended daylight in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to warmer places to breed and eat.

China is home to over 1500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the global population – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Four of the nine major flyways they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer few options to rest among towering rows of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.

The one we nearly walked into was extending over a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"In the early days, there was little interest," he states.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police found that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

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

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He remembers roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered areas for development, not protected zones to preserve.

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

"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered 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 lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says not many 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 solve this big problem, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the routes created 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 netting setups which can capture scores of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species sell for a premium," 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 reckons the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling 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 ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once people's attitudes are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

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

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

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

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