🔗 Share this article

Silva Gu's eyes scan over vast expanses of open meadows, looking for suspicious activity in the early morning gloom.

He utters less than a whisper as they attempt to locate a concealed position in the open area. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, we hear only our own breath.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter ahead of sunrise, we hear footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, feasting on insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they journey to more temperate climates to breed and eat.

China is home to 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% of the world's total – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow cross through China.

The patch of grassland being monitored, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among forests of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "fine nets", so delicate you can hardly spot them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across half the length of the field and held up with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was fighting hard to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

This 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

This activist, does this work for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"In the early days, no-one cared," he says.

So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized public meetings and invited the heads of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy have shown results. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

He remembers roaming through the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were viewed as areas for development, not sanctuaries to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I made the choice back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.

It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not held accountable.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, 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 found new ways to track the poachers.

He analyzes aerial photos to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds at night.

"Certain prized species sell for a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not exceed the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Wealthy individuals would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about the environment. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

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 black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders 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 false teeth.

Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a small park. It was easy to find.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan 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 on this occasion there would be no sales because the police had arrived. They were questioning the bird owners and taking names. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his