🔗 Share this article

The activist's gaze sweeps over miles of open meadows, looking for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in a muted voice as they attempt to locate a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, we hear only the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Across the heavens, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to breed and eat.

There are 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% 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 outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – any further and the city skies offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a tiny bird was desperately trying to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its environment.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that enforcement is still patchy.

This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

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

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as land for construction, not conservation areas to preserve.

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

"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I took this path," he says.

This has not made for an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," 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 fundraising 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 hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the paths created 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 scores of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species sell for a premium," 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 argues the fines to punish the crime do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."

Busted

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The path 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 group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by 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 interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his