Following Poachers Illegally Trapping the Nation's Protected Songbirds.

A hidden mist net in a field
Catching and selling protected songbirds remains a profitable, illicit business.

The conservationist's vision darts over miles of open meadows, searching for suspicious activity in the inky blackness.

He speaks in less than a whisper as they attempt to locate a spot to hide in the grasslands. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing has yet to wake. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Snared

In the skies above us, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they are flying to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts more than 1,500 bird species, which is about 13% of the world's total – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major flyways they follow intersect in China.

The area of meadow being monitored, 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 towering rows of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "barely visible nets", so thin you can barely see them.

The trap we stumbled upon was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

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 habitat.

Hunting the Hunters

This activist, does this work for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Back in 2015, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and launched 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 persuasion seem to have paid off. The police found 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 the response is not uniform.

A conservationist inspecting a bird
For ten years, Silva Gu has worked tirelessly to rescue endangered birds.

Silva's love of birds started in childhood. He was raised in the 1990s in a much changed capital.

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

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were seen as empty places to build, not conservation areas to preserve.

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

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

This has not made for an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

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

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 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 give it your all. You cannot be half-hearted."

He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines satellite imagery to find the trails created 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 scores of small birds during darkness.

A rare songbird perched on a branch
A Siberian rubythroat can fetch a high price on the black market.

"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 argues the penalties to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits 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 Qing dynasty. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.

"These individuals often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed 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 trader has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual stands outside a local market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells passers-by discreetly that his songbird is valuable, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.

A traditional market with bird cages
A glimpse into the longstanding trade of wildlife in local markets.

The area by the river extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets 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. Nearby several men, all over 50, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by black fabric.

But on this occasion there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his

Benjamin Porter
Benjamin Porter

A seasoned gambling analyst with over a decade of experience in reviewing online casinos and developing winning strategies.