Our makeshift blind was strategically located near the mouth of a river channel, which serves as a perennial flight path for geese trading from their inland roosts to the flats. The area also is a favorite haunt for polar bears, which gather along the Hudson Bay coastline during the summer months while waiting for the pack ice to reform later in the fall. Although polar bears are largely inactive in September during the goose season, these top predators will never pass up an easy meal and should always be treated with the utmost respect.

We didn't have time to worry about bears, however, as flocks of geese began arriving from upriver. My hunting partners broke into a medley of double clucks, grunts, and moans on their goose calls, as a long, wavering line of interior Canadas winged rapidly in our direction.

Since we were likely the first hunters the geese had encountered all year, they didn't need much encouragement to join our inviting spread. Peering through the interwoven willow branches, we watched wide-eyed as the big geese closed within easy shotgun range and began hovering above the decoys in a tight group.

Instinct took over as we rose from the brush in unison, sighting down the barrels of our autoloaders at the closest birds. Three geese crumpled to the ground during our opening volley, and two more folded as the rest flared downwind to safety.

"Not a bad start," Tom said with a broad grin, as we collected the hefty birds. "If we keep this up, Tony will have to come back early."

As the rising sun flooded the tundra with light, wave upon wave of geese converged on the flats from every direction. Skeins of interior and giant Canadas were intermittently followed by clouds of snows and blues, Richardson's Canadas, and Ross' geese. The larger Canadas proved to be more susceptible to our calling, and we enjoyed steady shooting as several flocks of giants and interiors came lumbering into our decoys.

Thousands of snows, blues, and Ross' geese covered the flats on either side of us, drawing passing flocks from miles around. As in the Lower 48, the light geese showed little interest in our decoys. However, due to their sheer numbers, we downed several of the birds from trading flights that errantly drifted over our blind.

We rounded out our bag with four dainty Richardson's Canadas, which we took from a large flock that whiffled down over our decoys like drifting leaves. When the morning flight had ended, Tom called Tony on his two-way radio to ask him for a lift back to the lodge. We were thankful to be picked up a half-hour later by the helicopter, knowing how difficult it would have been to carry our prodigious bag of geese very far by ourselves.