On the Trail Illegal Hunters That Illegally Capture China's Protected Singing Birds.
Silva Gu's vision darts over vast expanses of tall grassland, searching for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.
He utters a hushed tone as we try to find a place of cover in the open area. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, we hear only the quiet of the morning.
Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.
Caught
Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.
They have benefited from the long summer days in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating insects and fruit. As the year nears its end and cold breezes bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to warmer places to find food and shelter.
The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow converge in China.
This particular field being monitored, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the city skies offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so thin you can barely see them.
A net we almost encountered was extending over half the length of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.
It was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its environment.
Tracking the Trappers
This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.
"Initially, authorities were indifferent," he states.
So he recruited volunteers who did care and launched a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held community gatherings and invited the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.
"We found our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.
This fascination with birds started in childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a very different Beijing.
He recalls wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."
Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as land for construction, not conservation areas to preserve.
The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.
"I decided back then to work in conservation and I took this path," he says.
It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.
"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he went to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.
He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous 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 give it your all. You can't do it part-time."
He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but support has waned because of the economic situation.
So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.
He studies aerial photos to find the paths created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.
"Certain prized species sell for a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."
Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the fines to punish the crime do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.
Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.
It's a tradition that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.
"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the practice of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was no time to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."
Apprehended
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.
Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have created their own market.
The area alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.
Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. It was easy to find.
Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.
But today 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