On the Trail Poachers Who Illegally Snare China's Protected Songbirds.

Poachers' nets in tall grass
Catching and selling protected songbirds remains a profitable, illicit business.

The conservationist's eyes scan across vast expanses of tall grassland, hunting for any movement in the early morning gloom.

He utters a hushed tone as the team seeks a place of cover in the grasslands. Behind us, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. As we wait, the only sound is the quiet of the morning.

Suddenly, as the sky turns a shade lighter before dawn, there is the crunch of footsteps. The poachers are here.

Trapped

Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are traveling to the south for winter.

They have utilized the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year winds down and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they head to warmer places to nest and feed.

China is home to more than 1,500 bird species, accounting for 13% of the world's total – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major migration routes they follow intersect in China.

The area of meadow in question, on the outskirts of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer scant chance to rest among towering rows of concrete.

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

A net we almost encountered was extending over a large section of the field and propped up with wooden sticks. At its center, a small finch was desperately trying to free his legs, but the more it struggled, the more its claws became tangled.

It was a meadow pipit, a protected bird in China, and an important "bio-indicator" – that means if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.

Tracking the Trappers

This activist, performs this duty for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many nights of sleep to release trapped birds, and he has spent the last 10 years persuading the police in Beijing to enforce the law.

"Back in 2015, there was little interest," he remarks.

So he recruited volunteers who were concerned and launched a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He held public meetings and brought in the leaders of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of persuasion have shown results. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in identifying other kinds of illegal operations.

"It became clear our objectives became partially aligned," Silva says, noting that the response is not uniform.

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

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

He recalls exploring the grasslands on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, everything changed."

Industrialization brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not conservation areas to preserve.

The transformation was alarming. The grasslands started disappearing, as did the wildlife they housed.

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

This has not made for 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 accomplices who confronted me and assaulted me," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but those responsible were not brought to justice.

He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work demands covert operations and lost sleep. Silva says not many are prepared for the difficult – and sometimes dangerous job.

"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to solve this big problem, you must commit completely. You can't do it part-time."

He says donations pays for some of the costs – more than 100,000 yuan annually – but donations have dipped because of the slowing economy.

So he has adopted new ways to hunt the hunters.

He examines aerial photos to find the trails created by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' migratory routes and looks for areas where they may stop for the night. The satellite images can even show netting setups which can catch hundreds of small birds at night.

A Siberian rubythroat bird
A Siberian rubythroat can fetch a high price on the black market.

"Siberian rubythroats and bluethroats command a premium," Silva says. "In urban centers like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now quite wealthy."

Although there are environmental regulations in place, Silva believes the fines 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 mark of prestige. This originates from the Qing dynasty. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.

This custom that persists mainly among retired men in their later years. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are committing a wildlife crime, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a caged bird.

"These individuals didn't even have 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 little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once people's attitudes are formed, they're really hard to change."

Disrupted

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

A separate individual is positioned near a local market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He informs passers-by discreetly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.

This offers a view of an traditional side of the city where small unofficial traders 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 alongside the water extends over 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 nearby green space. The location was not concealed.

Music was blasting from a speaker under the low trees where a group of elderly ladies were choreographing a traditional dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.

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

Joseph Gill
Joseph Gill

Elara Vance is a tech analyst and digital strategist with over a decade of experience in emerging technologies and innovation consulting.