🔗 Share this article

Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of open meadows, searching for signs of life in the early morning gloom.

He speaks in less than a whisper as we try to find a concealed position in the fields. Behind us, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Trapped

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the warmer months in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the initial freeze of winter, they are flying to warmer places to breed and eat.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow being monitored, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across a large section of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it moved, 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 ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Initially, no-one cared," he says.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and formed a group called the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These small and persistent acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police realized that catching poachers also led to uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that implementation remains inconsistent.

Silva's love of birds began during 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 encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were viewed as land for construction, not conservation areas to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," 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 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 stealth and sleepless nights. 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 address this major issue, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations covers some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.

He examines aerial photos to find the routes created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats sell for a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the fines to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

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

It's a tradition that continues mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

The area alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to false teeth.

We were told that protected birds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. 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