Tracking Illegal Hunters Illegally Trapping the Nation's Endangered Singing Birds.
The conservationist's vision darts over miles of dense fields, hunting for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.
He utters less than a whisper as we try to find a place of cover in the open area. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.
And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Trapped
Overhead, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.
They have taken advantage of the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the initial freeze of winter, they head to warmer places to nest and feed.
There are 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the global population – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow intersect in China.
This particular field where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an refuge 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 "fine nets", so delicate you can almost miss them.
A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and supported 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 meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.
Tracking the Trappers
The conservationist, in his thirties, does this work for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.
"Initially, no-one cared," he states.
So he gathered a team who did care and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.
"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.
Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a very different Beijing.
He recalls roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."
Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not conservation areas to preserve.
The change stunned Silva. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the ecosystems they sustained.
"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.
It has not been an easy life. A major 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 assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.
He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.
"This is my full-time commitment," 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 covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.
So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.
He analyzes aerial photos to find the trails created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.
"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now quite wealthy."
While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes 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 people in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.
It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy 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."
Disrupted
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.
Another man stands outside a local market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.
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 false teeth.
Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. 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 over 50, 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 appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his