On the Trail Poachers Who Illegally Snare the Nation's Endangered Songbirds.
The conservationist's gaze sweeps over vast expanses of dense fields, looking for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.
He speaks in less than a whisper as we try to find a place of cover in the open area. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.
Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.
Snared
Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are migrating south for winter.
They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, feasting on bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.
There are 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.
The patch of grassland being monitored, on the edges 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 also an oasis for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so fine you can hardly spot them.
The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to escape, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.
Pursuing the Poachers
The conservationist, in his thirties, 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 urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.
"In the early days, authorities were indifferent," he states.
So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police found that catching poachers also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.
"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that enforcement is still patchy.
Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.
He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."
China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not sanctuaries to conserve.
This shift shocked him. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the wildlife they housed.
"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I took this path," he says.
It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.
"He gathered several of his associates who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went 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 not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.
"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to solve this big problem, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."
He says fundraising covers 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 track the poachers.
He studies satellite imagery to find the routes created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch scores of small birds at night.
"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."
While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the penalties to punish the crime 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 mark of prestige. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that continues mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet.
"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."
Apprehended
On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.
Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have established a niche trade.
The area by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.
Information suggested that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.
Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had two or three 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 recording details. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his