Following Illegal Hunters Who Illegally Snare the Nation's Protected Singing Birds.
Silva Gu's gaze sweeps across miles of open meadows, looking for any movement in the inky blackness.
He speaks in less than a whisper as the team seeks a spot to hide in the open area. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.
Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.
Caught
Across the heavens, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.
They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they journey to warmer places to find food and shelter.
The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the global population – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow converge in China.
The area of meadow in question, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis 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 barely see them.
The trap we stumbled upon was strung across a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to escape, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.
This was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its habitat.
Tracking the Trappers
Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.
"Initially, there was little interest," he says.
So he recruited volunteers who did care and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and invited the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also led to tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.
"We found our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.
This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a much changed capital.
He remembers roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he found 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 seen as land for construction, not protected zones to conserve.
The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the wildlife they housed.
"I made the choice back then to work in conservation and I chose this direction," he says.
This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.
"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.
He has also seen the departure of his team of helpers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky 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 cannot be half-hearted."
He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but support has waned because of the economic situation.
So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.
He analyzes aerial photos to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can capture scores of small birds at night.
"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."
While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that continues 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 so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.
"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to educate people about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."
Disrupted
On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.
A separate individual stands outside a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.
The area by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to dentures.
Information suggested 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 traditional dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.
But today there would be no sales because the police had arrived. 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