🔗 Share this article

The activist's vision darts across miles of tall grassland, searching for signs of life in the inky blackness.

He utters less than a whisper as the team seeks a spot to hide in the fields. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, we hear only the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

In the skies above us, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the extended daylight in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they journey to southern locales to nest and feed.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major migration routes they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven 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 "barely visible nets", so delicate you can almost miss them.

A net we almost encountered was extending over a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to escape, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he gathered a team who did care and launched a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and brought in the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police found that catching poachers also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

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

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He recalls roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not protected zones to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the habitats they supported.

"I decided 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 discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded 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 demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous 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 give it your all. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – 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 paths worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds during darkness.

"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 quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about the environment. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He tells 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 created their own market.

The area by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

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