There are few things in life that are guaranteed to instill fear in your average human. The dark is a classic one, but the 30-million-year-old stare of an alligator has got to be up there, too.

For me personally, it is the Chinese alligator. Not that I'd ever met one before, nor any other crocodilian for that matter. But as Zhou Yongkang, a researcher with the Anhui Chinese Alligator National Nature Reserve Administration, unlocks the enclosure containing hundreds of them and beckons me to enter, I begin to feel the instincts of my ancestors kick in.

Despite having outlived the dinosaurs and numerous extinction-level calamities throughout history, the Chinese alligator is a critically endangered species endemic to China. Sometimes referred to as the Yangtze alligator, they number fewer than 2,000 in the wild, mostly in Anhui province.

As I balance 2 meters up, on top of a brick wall separating two enclosures, some of the pairs of black, unblinking eyes slowly disappear below the surface of the water as I approach. As if reacting to my movements, somewhere unseen to me — but close — wild thrashing and splashing erupts as gators stir from their respite, as if awakened by the thought of fresh meat. I am reassured that the commotion is actually due to the alligators getting out of the way and not wanting any trouble.

Unlike the American alligator, which can grow to a length of over 4 meters, the Chinese alligator is more petite, measuring at 1.5 to 2 meters. But that doesn't give me any pause to relax as Zhou guides me through the scrub to a Chinese alligator nest — a big, pale ball of dried vines, about the size of a coffee table, where eggs are incubated. This should be ground zero for danger, but again, I'm assured this nest is empty and no protective mother-to-be is about to erupt out of the bushes.

Why, you might ask, would I even consider entering an alligator enclosure, venturing deep into its natural habitat, and intruding on its living space? Well, the answer is simple, I'm here to learn more about the extensive efforts to boost the numbers of Chinese alligators in the wild being made by the Chinese Alligator National Nature Reserve Administration and the National Forestry and Grassland Administration.

Starting in 2001, the National Forestry and Grassland Administration has been breeding Chinese alligators in captivity for release back into the wild, ensuring genetic diversity along the way, so that once released the wild population can again thrive.

From 2003 to 2018, the alligator reserve in Anhui carried out 14 relocation projects, releasing 108 alligators. In 2019, a more ambitious plan was launched aiming to release 1,500 alligators into the wild. Between 2019 and last year, 1,300 artificially bred Chinese alligators have been released.

A little down the road from the reserve, in a wild patch of wetland, an early morning mist hovers around the waterline, partially shrouding 20 glass boxes housing 20 Chinese alligators. Most are calm, awaiting their release into the wild, but others are keen to get a glimpse of their new home, snapping and writhing in their temporary enclosures.

As the release ceremony concludes, the glass boxes are opened and the freed gators slither with relative elegance into the waters. As I wave them off from the bank, I feel reassured that such efforts to restore fragile species' populations are being undertaken, and that we as a species can do some good, too, sometimes.