The use of Canada, snow/blue and white-fronted goose decoys in the farm fields of the Southern Illinois Quality Zone is a flash from the past, but the birds that fall into these spreads most often these days are ducks. In fact, many of the clubs in the SIQZ are set up this season to attract both ducks and geese. Photo by Jerry Pabst.

When hunters talk about Southern Illinois waterfowling memories, clouds of raucous Canada geese rush to mind. Then, and just as quickly, shadows of sadness cross their faces as they remember a gumbooter's wonderland that is no more. The famous Southern Illinois Quota Zone (SIQZ) goose hunt was great while it lasted. Now, that party is over.

Life does not consist of only one party, however. When one ends, we usually can look forward to the next.

In the case of SIQZ, nearly all the hunters who enjoyed those many seasons of fine goose hunting looked for their new parties elsewhere.

I believe I was one of the last to reluctantly admit what even the SIQZ hunting club owners knew: Geese no longer returned to those southern Illinois hunting grounds. Like many other hunters, I finally shifted my waterfowling priorities northward and shot plenty of geese. But flashbacks of days now gone tugged at me, delivering images of modified Olt A-50 goose calls, septic-tank pits, lunches in the field and after-hunt "debriefings" in ancient, mildewed country taverns.

I missed the people, too -- men whose lives revolved around the fall goose flight. Everything took second place in their lives when the honkers arrived, and they would wear out a pair of waders in a few weeks. The "callers" played their pure notes on their favorite goose calls, even when no geese were around. And quiet women worked long hours in the stifling "pickin' sheds" to be sure visiting hunters' birds were cleaned and wrapped for the trip home. What had become of them all?

Over the years, as the geese were completing their full-scale desertion of the SIQZ, my editors still requested articles on southern Illinois goose hunting. Goose hunts in the south were not clinically dead down there, but the shoots were on life support, presenting me the challenge to compose goose-hunting stories without resorting to overly optimistic projections.

Information on SIQZ hunting in recent years has been harvested from the daily reports -- the kill sheets -- the hunting clubs are required to provide to the Illinois Department of Natural Resources. Since my assignment was always "geese only," I concentrated my reports on the clubs that were still producing mentionable harvest numbers of Canada geese, but I couldn't help notice the next column over in the clubs' hunting data that detailed how many other types of geese were being taken, as well as a steadily mounting tally of ducks. What's up with that?

Last January, I returned to the SIQZ, consisting of Jackson, Union, and Alexander counties. I also spent a day at Rend Lake in southern Illinois' Franklin County. I went to see why hunters' harvest reports posted increasing numbers of ducks, as well as white-fronted and snow geese. Speeding south on Interstate 57, then west on Highway 146, I noted but little change in the landscape since my last visit more than 10 years ago.

Then I came upon the hunting clubs situated along the northern boundary of Union County State Fish & Wildlife Area. I hardly recognized the place. To paraphrase "The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner": "There was water, water everywhere." It looked more like the rice fields of Arkansas than Illinois bottomland.

My agenda had me duck and goose hunting the following morning at Colin Cain's Grassy Lake Hunting Club. Commonly called "The Grassy Club," Cain many years ago developed the "black hole" style of decoy spreads for goose hunting. Because his club was located on the northern edge of Union County FWA, Cain reasoned it would be the first thing incoming migrant geese would see. If he could somehow fool the weary winged travelers into thinking they had reached the refuge, they might just drop in for a rest. How was he to do that?

To duplicate refuge conditions on his club, Cain invested in thousands of high-quality full-bodied goose decoys. Soon, 3,000 to 5,000 fake geese stood right in the center of the club's land. This became known as the famous Black Hole.

Cain established a pit in the center of the Black Hole, then added satellite pits and blinds around the edges. His theory worked perfectly. For years, Grassy Club was the top-killing goose-hunting operation in the SIQZ.