Tracking Illegal Hunters That Illegally Capture the Nation's Rare Singing Birds.

A hidden mist net in a field
The illegal trade in songbirds is a lucrative underground market.

The conservationist's eyes scan over miles of open meadows, hunting for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.

He speaks in less than a whisper as the team seeks a place of cover in the grasslands. In the distance, the sprawling city of Beijing remains asleep. During the vigil, we hear only the sound of breathing.

And then, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Caught

Overhead, a multitude of winged travelers, some tiny enough that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to warmer places to find food and shelter.

There are 1500-plus bird species, representing roughly thirteen percent of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major migration routes they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow in question, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer few options to rest among clusters of concrete.

It is also an oasis for the poachers and their "fine nets", so thin you can almost miss them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across half the length of the field and propped up with bamboo poles. At its center, a meadow pipit was struggling frantically to free his legs, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.

It was a meadow pipit, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Hunting the Hunters

Silva, who is in his 30s, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many nights of sleep to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"Back in 2015, no-one cared," he remarks.

So he gathered a team who were concerned and established a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized public meetings and brought in the officials of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in uncovering other kinds of criminal activity.

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

A conservationist inspecting a bird
Silva Gu has spent the last decade fighting to protect and free rare songbirds.

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

He recalls wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Rapid economic growth brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered areas for development, not conservation areas to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. 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 easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He assembled several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," 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 requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky 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 fundraising pays for 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 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 rest. The aerial views can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds during darkness.

A Siberian rubythroat bird
Birds like the Siberian rubythroat command significant sums illegally.

"Certain prized species command a high price," 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 argues the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of catching and selling songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some people in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Wealthy individuals 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 older Chinese people may not understand they are breaking the law, or grasp that so many more birds were killed in a trap so they could buy a pet.

"This generation 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 raise awareness about the environment. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're extremely difficult to change."

Apprehended

Along a riverside path in Beijing, a trader has several small cages with chirping songbirds.

Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have created their own market.

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

The area alongside the water extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were shoppers browsing everything from old trinkets to dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds 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 traditional dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, 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 appeared. 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

Amy Rivera
Amy Rivera

A seasoned gambling analyst with over a decade of experience in casino gaming and strategy development.

Popular Post