During my first winter trip to deliver dental care to remote Alaskan villages, a newfound friend in Pt.Hope invited me to sup with his family.  The meal was Snowy Owl soup.  It reminded me of soup from an old hen chicken that Grandma had decided was no longer a valuable layer. The soup was good.
   My friend, Henry, took me on his trap line one morning. He would jam a small, short pole into the snow, pack it down with his mukluk, then place a small leg hold trap on top. The flying owls would see the pole, land & be caught. 
   Trapping soon proved to be not my game as I hated to see or think about the doomed critters, but I did not condemn those who did.
   Snowy owls were a source of food to indigenous people who hunted & trapped as opportunities presented.