On the Trail Illegal Hunters That Illegally Capture the Nation's Endangered Songbirds.

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

The conservationist's gaze sweeps over miles of tall grassland, hunting for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a hushed tone as they attempt to locate a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.

And then, as the sky turns a shade lighter with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The hunters have arrived.

Snared

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, many so small that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the warmer months in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they head to more temperate climates to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the planet's species – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow converge in China.

The patch of grassland being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer few options to rest among forests of concrete.

It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so fine you can barely see them.

The one we nearly walked into was extending over a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a small finch was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its numbers are thriving, so is its environment.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, does this work for free using his own savings. He has forgone many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"In the early days, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and formed 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 small and persistent acts of persuasion seem to have paid off. The police discovered that catching poachers also led to tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

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

An activist holding a rescued songbird
Silva Gu has spent the last decade fighting to protect and free rare songbirds.

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

He remembers wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."

Industrialization brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This rapid urbanisation meant grasslands were seen as areas for development, not conservation areas to preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands receded, as did the ecosystems they sustained.

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

It has not been an easy life. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was being investigated by Silva and fought back.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his team of helpers over the years. This work demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are willing to take on the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the economic situation.

So he has developed new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines satellite imagery to find the trails worn away 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 lines of net traps which can catch hundreds of small birds at night.

A Siberian rubythroat bird
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 keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not exceed the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that continues mainly among older individuals 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 for them to purchase a caged bird.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have inherited the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're really hard to change."

Busted

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

A separate individual is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth about 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where informal vendors have created their own market.

Elderly men with caged birds
A traditional market scene where various animals, including birds, are sold.

The area by the river stretches for several miles and on a typical day, there were people looking at everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.

Information suggested that protected birds could be purchased in a small park. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were covered in black fabric.

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

Michael Thomas
Michael Thomas

A tech journalist and innovation strategist with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and their impact on global markets.