On the Trail Poachers Illegally Trapping the Nation's Endangered Songbirds.

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

The conservationist's vision darts across miles of tall grassland, hunting for any movement in the pre-dawn darkness.

He utters a muted voice as the team seeks a concealed position in the fields. Behind us, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is the sound of breathing.

Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, we hear footsteps. Illegal trappers are present.

Caught

In the skies above us, countless migratory birds, many so small that they could rest in the cup of a hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have taken advantage of the extended daylight in northern regions, consuming insects and fruit. As the year winds down and chilling gusts bring the first frosts of winter, they are flying to warmer places to breed and eat.

China is home to 1500-plus bird species, which is about thirteen percent of the planet's species – over eight hundred of those are migratory birds. Four of the nine major paths they follow intersect in China.

The patch of grassland where we were, on the edges of the Chinese capital, is an haven 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 "mist nets", so delicate you can almost miss them.

The one we nearly walked into was stretched across a large section of the field and held up with wooden sticks. In the middle, a tiny bird was fighting hard to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.

This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – which signifies if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his personal funds. He has forgone many sleeping hours to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years urging the police in Beijing to take this crime seriously.

"In the early days, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he enlisted helpers who did care and established a group called the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized public meetings and invited the heads of the relevant authorities. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy appear to have worked. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to tracking down other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that enforcement is still patchy.

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

This fascination with birds began during childhood. He grew up in the nineties in a distinct era for the city.

He recalls roaming through the fields on the city's edges where he discovered birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, everything changed."

China's booming economy brought a huge influx of rural workers to cities. This fast-paced development meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not protected zones to preserve.

The change stunned Silva. The grasslands receded, as did the wildlife they housed.

"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation 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 under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.

"He gathered several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva recalls. 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 patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I treat it as a mission because if you want to address this major issue, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.

So he has found new ways to track the poachers.

He examines satellite imagery to find the paths created by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can capture hundreds of small birds at night.

A Siberian rubythroat bird
The rare Siberian rubythroat is a valuable target for poachers.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva argues the penalties to punish the crime do not outweigh the potential profits of trapping and trading songbirds.

Keeping a caged bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are committing a wildlife crime, or grasp that so many more birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with a little money, they have adopted the habit and custom of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to educate people about ecology. Once people's attitudes are set, they're really hard to change."

Busted

On a long low wall in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with tiny twittering birds.

A separate individual is positioned near a nearby market holding a bird cage covered by a dark cloth. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

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

A traditional market with bird cages
An old-style market in Beijing, selling everything from crickets to caged birds.

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

We were told that protected birds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.

Music was blasting from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by 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 sales because the police had appeared. They were questioning the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his

Dr. Christine Myers
Dr. Christine Myers

A software engineer and tech writer passionate about AI, web development, and sharing knowledge through engaging articles.