Tracking Illegal Hunters Illegally Trapping the Nation's Protected Wild Birds.
Silva Gu's vision darts over miles of dense fields, looking for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.
He speaks in a hushed tone as the team seeks a spot to hide in the grasslands. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.
And then, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Caught
Across the heavens, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.
They have taken advantage of the long summer days in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to more temperate climates to nest and feed.
The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for thirteen percent of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major migration routes they follow converge in China.
This particular field being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.
It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "mist nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.
The one we nearly walked into was extending over half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its environment.
Pursuing the Poachers
The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has given up on many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.
"Initially, no-one cared," he states.
So he enlisted helpers who did care and established a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in uncovering other kinds of illegal operations.
"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, adding the caveat that the response is not uniform.
Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a much changed capital.
He recalls exploring the fields 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 considered areas for development, not conservation areas to conserve.
The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the ecosystems they sustained.
"I decided back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I followed this course," he says.
This has not made for an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.
"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded 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 demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are willing to take on the challenging and occasionally risky job.
"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."
He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.
So he has adopted 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' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch scores of small birds during darkness.
"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."
Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva reckons the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed 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 dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that persists 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 were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.
"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."
Busted
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 informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.
This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where informal vendors have established a niche trade.
The path alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.
Information suggested that protected birds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.
Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.
But on this occasion there would be no sales because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and taking names. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his