🔗 Share this article Following Poachers That Illegally Capture the Nation's Endangered Wild Birds. Catching and selling protected songbirds remains a profitable, illicit business. The activist's gaze sweeps across miles of tall grassland, hunting for suspicious activity in the inky blackness. 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 has yet to wake. As we wait, we hear only our own breath. And then, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived. Caught In the skies above us, billions of birds, many so small that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter. They have utilized the extended daylight in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the first frosts of winter, they head to southern locales to find food and shelter. China is home to over 1500 bird species, representing roughly 13% of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow converge in China. This particular field where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an refuge for small birds – any further and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among forests of concrete. It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "fine nets", so fine you can hardly spot them. The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across a large section of the field and held up with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was struggling frantically to untangle itself, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled. This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – which signifies if its numbers are thriving, so is its ecosystem. Hunting the Hunters The conservationist, in his thirties, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue. "Initially, there was little interest," he states. So he gathered a team who did care and launched a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held community gatherings and brought in the leaders of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police realized that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of criminal activity. "We found our goals were partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform. For ten years, Silva Gu has worked tirelessly to rescue endangered birds. This fascination with birds began during childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city. He remembers exploring the fields on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed." Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered empty places to build, not protected zones to conserve. This shift shocked him. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed. "I decided back then to work in conservation and I chose this direction," he says. It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated. "He assembled several of his accomplices who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not held accountable. He has also lost his team of helpers 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 address this major issue, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You can't do it part-time." He says fundraising 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 hunt the hunters. He analyzes aerial photos to find the trails created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can capture scores of small birds during darkness. Birds like the Siberian rubythroat command significant sums illegally. "Certain prized species command a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent." Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits 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 for their birds. This custom that continues mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a pet. "This generation didn't even have enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "China developed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change." Apprehended Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds. Another man is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by 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 small unofficial traders have created their own market. An old-style market in Beijing, selling everything from crickets to caged birds. The area alongside the water stretches for several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth. We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a nearby green space. It was easy to find. Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Nearby several men, all over 50, had gathered 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 arrived. 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