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

A trapped songbird in a net
The illegal trade in songbirds is a lucrative underground market.

Silva Gu's gaze sweeps over miles of tall grassland, hunting for suspicious activity in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters less than a whisper as we try to find a spot to hide in the fields. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.

Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Caught

Overhead, billions of birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are migrating south for winter.

They have benefited from the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating insects and fruit. As the year comes to a close and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they journey to southern locales to find food and shelter.

The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the world's total – more than 800 of those are birds that migrate. Several of the major flyways they follow converge in China.

The area of meadow where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among forests of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was stretched across half the length of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its claws became tangled.

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

Pursuing the Poachers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has given up on many sleeping hours to rescue birds, and he has spent the last decade urging the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

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

So he enlisted helpers who did care and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He organized community gatherings and brought in the heads of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion appear to have worked. The police discovered that catching poachers also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.

"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, adding the caveat that implementation remains inconsistent.

An activist holding a rescued songbird
For ten years, Silva Gu has worked tirelessly to rescue endangered birds.

His passion for avian life began during childhood. He was raised in the nineties in a very different Beijing.

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

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 preserve.

This shift shocked him. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.

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

It has not been an simple journey. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers found out he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his accomplices who surrounded me and assaulted me," 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 requires covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says few people are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"This is my full-time commitment," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says fundraising pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He analyzes satellite imagery to find the paths 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 capture scores of small birds during darkness.

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

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."

Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the penalties to deter the activity do not exceed the financial benefits 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. Wealthy individuals would build ornate bamboo cages for their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among older individuals in their 60s or 70s. Silva says older Chinese people don't realise 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 some disposable income, they have adopted the habit and custom of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was no time to educate people about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."

Disrupted

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 black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have established a niche trade.

A traditional market with bird cages
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 dentures.

We were told that wild songbirds could be bought in a small park. The location was not concealed.

Loud music played from a speaker under the low trees where a troop of elderly ladies were choreographing a fan dance. Close by several men, all over 50, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.

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

Heather Michael
Heather Michael

A seasoned travel writer and lifestyle curator with over a decade of experience exploring global luxury destinations.