🔗 Share this article

The conservationist's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, looking for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

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 slumbers on. During the vigil, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Overhead, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

There are over 1500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major paths they follow intersect in China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so delicate you can almost miss 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 struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Initially, there was little interest," he remarks.

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

"We found our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that implementation remains inconsistent.

Silva's love of birds began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.

He recalls wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not conservation areas to preserve.

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

"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I chose this direction," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and beat me up," Silva recalls. 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 stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are prepared for 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 commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but support has waned because of the economic situation.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He studies satellite imagery to find the paths created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can catch scores of small birds during darkness.

"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

The path by the river 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 bought in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

But today there would be no transactions 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