🔗 Share this article

The activist's vision darts across miles of open meadows, hunting for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in a muted voice as they attempt to locate a concealed position in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.

And then, as the sky starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The poachers are here.

Snared

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the long summer days in northern regions, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to warmer places to nest and feed.

There are more than 1,500 bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow intersect 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 city skies offer scant chance to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "mist nets", so delicate you can barely see them.

The trap we stumbled upon was strung across half the length of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a tiny bird was struggling frantically to free his legs, 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" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its habitat.

Hunting the Hunters

Silva, who is in his 30s, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.

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

So he recruited volunteers who did care and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that catching poachers also helped in identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

His passion for avian life started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He remembers roaming through the grasslands 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 expansion meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not sanctuaries to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.

"I made the choice 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 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 covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but support has waned because of the slowing economy.

So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the trails created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch scores 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 own songbirds are now often affluent."

While there are wildlife laws in place, Silva argues the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have inherited 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 people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

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

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

The area alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

Information suggested that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

But on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his