HUNTING
BAGGING BIG NUMBERS You don’t need to go to South America for a high-volume bird hunt BY BRAD FITZPATRICK
The author holds a snow goose in a field of decoys.
60 HUNT & FISH | 2021
toward our spread. Most were white snow geese, but on the far left was a large blue-phase snow goose, commonly called an “eagle head.” The birds made a narrowing circle overhead. On the first pass, a couple birds dropped out, then another on the second pass, but by the third turn over our spread nine birds (including the eagle head, still on the left) cupped their wings and set their legs to land. “Take them if you can!” Kelso shouted, and the members of our hunting party burst through the doors of our coffin blinds. The geese made an abrupt turn and Keith Heinlein, product manager for Stoeger Industries, killed a bird, and behind it came another that I shot at, missed, and then hit with my second shot. Up and down the row, shotguns roared until six of the nine birds were on the ground and the echo
of shotshells was lost in the cacophony of the electronic snow goose calls.
SNOW STORMED When we think about high-volume bird-hunting locales, places like Argentina may first come to mind. To curb their overpopulation of doves (and appease farmers who were suffering near-total losses to massive flocks), the Argentinian government allowed hunters to bag unlimited birds, which contrasts greatly with the tightly regulated harvest of migratory birds in the United States. In the late 19th century, commercial hunting of migratory birds took a heavy toll on waterfowl numbers in North America, but the passage of the Lacey Act in 1900 limited commercial hunting, and in 1903, President Theodore Roosevelt signed an executive order >
PROVIDED BY BRAD FITZPATRICK
T
he first flock of snow geese that passed over my head numbered more than 100 birds. They flew in an extended V-formation, a cackling silver cavalcade against the cloudless Missouri sky, and as they passed I leaned below the waving white sock that was positioned to prevent the birds from seeing the shine of my face. With my head low and eyes upturned, I watched the geese pass until my guide, Keaton Kelso, hit the speaker remote, and all sound was drowned out by the electronic echo of a thousand snow geese. Most of the birds continued on, but a handful dropped out of the group and sailed toward our decoy spread. Four birds committed, then a fifth and sixth, and eventually a dozen birds broke from the high-flying flock and turned
