On the Trail Poachers Who Illegally Snare the Nation's Protected Songbirds.

A trapped songbird in a net
Catching and selling protected songbirds remains a profitable, illicit business.

The activist's eyes scan across miles of open meadows, searching for any movement in the inky blackness.

He speaks in a hushed tone as we try to find a place of cover in the fields. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten ahead of sunrise, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

Overhead, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to southern locales to nest and feed.

China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow in question, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.

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

The trap we stumbled upon was strung across a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to escape, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Tracking the Trappers

The conservationist, in his thirties, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

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

So he gathered a team who were concerned and established a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and invited the officials of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of criminal activity.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.

An activist holding a rescued songbird
A decade of dedication has gone into Silva Gu's mission to save migratory birds.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

He remembers wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

China's booming economy brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not conservation areas to conserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.

"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I followed this course," he says.

This has not made for an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He assembled several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.

He has also seen the departure of his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are willing to take on 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 solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.

So he has adopted new ways to track the poachers.

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

A rare songbird perched on a branch
Birds like the Siberian rubythroat command significant sums illegally.

"Certain prized species 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 environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet 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 elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

It's a tradition that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a pet.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with chirping songbirds.

Another man is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have established a niche trade.

Elderly men with caged birds
An old-style market in Beijing, selling everything from crickets to caged birds.

The area by the river stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to dentures.

We were told 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 performing a fan 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 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

Stephanie Miller
Stephanie Miller

A seasoned gaming analyst with over a decade of experience in online casinos, specializing in slot game mechanics and player strategies.