THE LEGEND

The Saint John River, near what is now the Madawaska Maliseet First Nation, New Brunswick, Canada, 1683

A gust of frigid wind caught and snapped the deerskin flap. The small fire at the center of the lodge struggled to ward off the cold while its light made the occupants’ shadows dance on the thin walls like an eerie shadow-puppet play. An old Maliseet man faced the five wide-eyed children who were huddled together as close as they could to the fire, several of them wrapped together in blankets, trying to absorb as much warmth as possible. The old man’s low, raspy voice filled the room above the periodic popping of the wood fire and the howling of the wind. His breath was visible in the air as his tale held his young audience captive.

“It happened years ago, after Kji-kinap created the six worlds and the people. Many years before the French came to our lands and destroyed the balance of life, the people had shared with the Earth World from the time of creation. The people knew that for three seasons the Earth World worked hard providing crops so the people could survive the fourth season, when the Earth World rested. The balance was always uncertain, some seasons were dry and crops suffered, others were wet and again crops suffered. Then the whites came and killed the Earth World’s animals for the pleasure of it. They left the carcasses, taking only the prize meats, leaving the rest of the valuable gift to rot on the forest floor. Soon game was not so plentiful and Kji-kinap was displeased with the way both the French and the Algonquins had treated the Earth World. To teach the people a lesson and to get them to return to the old ways, Kji-kinap sent Wendigo to the land.

“Wendigo has always been a cruel teacher. He visits during the Hunger Moon, when food is scarce and the people are weak with starvation. His lessons always bring death and suffering.

“Over the land came a winter worse than anything the people had ever known. They knew Kji-kinap was angry and punished them for abusing the blessings that the Earth World provided. Snow fell for days at a time and soon was so deep even the deer and moose moved to the south. Many of the people died from the cold and lack of food.

“There was among the people a great warrior named Plawej. He stood head and shoulders above the next tallest man in the village. He saw that the people’s need was great and declared he would take a band of hunters far away, toward the setting sun to seek food for the tribe. There was great celebration in the village, for Plawej was renowned throughout the land as a great hunter. “Surely,” the people said,” if there is anyone who can find game it is he.” The villagers were so sure that the hunt would be successful that they gave most of their food to the hunters for their journey.

“The party was gone two moons with no word of them. One day, when it was so cold the air froze into fine crystals of ice, Wijik, one of the hunters, crawled into the village. The villagers took him before the council and placed him before a fire to warm. The warrior had been in the frigid cold for so long he was reluctant to sit close to the fire; its heat too painful for his cold flesh. He gathered the council around and this is the tale he told:

‘We traveled many days to the south and west, past the great lake shaped like the antlers of the moose. The cold and snow made travel hard and we saw no game. Plawej led us into a great cedar swamp where the snow was not so deep, but hoarfrost was everywhere. Never have I seen such a frozen and foreboding place. Ice coated the trees and their branches hung to the ground as if they were the arms of a great frozen monster, waiting to grab us up. It was there that Plawej decided to set our hunting camp. Many of the hunters were not happy with the place. The swamp air was so frigid that it seemed to freeze on our faces and every breath brought the glacial chill deep into our chests. On the ground, the hoarfrost was so thick and hard it was all we could do to chop through it for water. Plawej challenged anyone who doubted his decision. We all knew his prowess as a warrior, so no one challenged him.

‘We hunted around the great lake for seven suns and found no game. We told Plawej we should return home because we were running out of food. It is far better to starve with your people than to die alone in the deep woods. He refused us. Again he issued his challenge. No one took it.

‘The next morning when we arose, Skun and Njiknam were gone. We saw their tracks going toward the rising sun and believed they had given up and returned home. The following morning Tia’m and Mi’kmwesu were gone, the day after, Miskwekepu’j and Antawesk. The desertions continued until only Plawej and I remained.

‘Hunger and cold were the only truths we knew. I had lost much weight and was weakening. I knew I too had to leave while I still had enough strength to get home. Plawej, as was his habit, had left camp early, climbing one of the high ridges that surrounded the swamp. I was suspicious of his going off alone and I set out to find him. I walked on the ice, seeking the place where his tracks left the frozen bog and entered the deep snow. I followed his footprints out of the swamp and up the great ridge. I was almost atop the incline when I first smelled something foul. It smelled as if a great battle had taken place and the smell of spilled blood and death rode the gusting wind. The ledge was too steep for me to climb while carrying a notched arrow, so I took my war axe in hand, hung my bow across my shoulder and slowly climbed to the top.

‘Once atop the ridge, I heard cracking sounds and sought cover in some evergreen trees. Curious about what the sounds were, I crept toward their source. In a short time the cracking ended and a great beast, I hoped it was a moose, could be heard walking down the ridge. I notched an arrow in my bow and stepped out of the tangled evergreens.

‘What I found there will remain with me always. I was in an area of pine, beech, and great maple trees. Suspended from the trees were the remains of men. They had been devoured … the ground beneath the hanging carcasses covered with broken bones, the very marrow gone as if it had been sucked out. To one side I found a pile of clothing and weapons: Tia’m’s bow was there, as was Mi’kmwesu’s moccasins and Miskwekepu’j’s blanket. I looked up into the maple tree and saw what remained of Antawesk hanging by the neck in a forked branch. The fiend had lifted him up and left him there, no doubt to keep its food safe from other animals. At first I wanted to find Plawej, but was afraid the monster might return, smell my scent and follow me. I decided to return to my hiding place in the evergreens and wait.

‘The sun was halfway across the sky when I heard it. I waited for him to get settled for his midday meal. I soon heard the cracking noises again and pushed aside the evergreen boughs.

‘I could not believe what I saw. There sat the creature—only it was not an animal!

‘It was Plawej. He squatted with his back to me, chewing and sucking the marrow out of one of Antawesk’s broken leg bones—he had become Wendigo.

‘I knew that even at full strength, I was no match for him, so I crept away. Once I reached the bottom of the ridge I ran and ran until I thought I could run no more—then I ran more. I ran until I dropped from exhaustion. Several times I heard Plawej call to me, asking me to wait for him so that we could travel together. I was too afraid to do anything but run….’”

The children sat entranced. Only the smallest, her eyes wide with horror, was brave enough to speak. “What happened then, Grandfather?”

“The next morning when Plawej arrived at the village, unaware Wijik had beaten him there, the people fell upon him and killed him. Because a Wendigo will resurrect unless his icy heart is melted in a great fire, they cut his body into pieces and burned the pieces.

“But, that was not the end …”

“It wasn’t?” the youngest said, her eyes wide and she leaned forward.

“No, the villagers were too hasty. They did not remember all there is to know about the Wendigo. Although they are gaunt in appearance, no mortal man can move faster. It is said that it would be easier to outrun the wind than a Wendigo. It was impossible for Wijik to have outrun one.

“As the fire in which Plawej burned died down, Wijik suddenly grew to over twenty feet tall. He snatched up two of the village children and disappeared into the woods, leaving only his laughter behind.”

The children gasped as one. “You mean—” said the eldest.

“Yes, Wijik was the Wendigo. That is why you must always be good children. When the winter wind blows hardest and coldest the Wendigo comes for bad children. It always has and it always will….”