1906, sometime in September, the Fiddlers were broken apart when Wahsakapeequay, or Mrs. Thomas Fiddler, was brought to their doorstep. Officials of Norway House were suspicious to the Fiddlers, but among the local indigenous Suckers, they were a respected bunch for their profession. They were not healers, and what afflicted Wahsakapeequay could not be mended by any medicine. Fear consumed Jack and Joseph Fiddler, Chief Zhauwuno-geezhigo-gaubow and his brother Pesequan respectively, for this was the not the first time they saw someone in this condition. What worse was not the pain Mrs. Fiddler was experiencing... but what she would become once she passed. What would come to inhabit her body, what had tormented her all the way up to their house... 

They slew her, as they had upwards of 30 other similar patients over many years. They were not healers, but they were monster hunters, and specially trained for one of the most dangerous: the Wendigo. 

Perhaps the most well-known of Canada’s malevolent spooks, the Wendigo has found itself in the limelight of popular culture, what with numerous fictional works featuring its gaunt physique and characteristically gluttonous attitude. But to the Algonquin peoples, where this chilling terror originated, it is as real as the threat it poses every day. It is a character to us, but what are Wendigo to those that have to deal with it? Hide from, stave away, and in the worst-case scenario... what is it they have to destroy?

Let’s start with a description, and according to one Ojibwe teacher Basil H. Johnston, it isn’t like many pop culture appearances. It is a spirit, malevolent as they come, and one solely afflicting its curse upon man. The highest chance of possession occurring during the winter months, greed is what invites it most, and once it has taken hold of someone, the person is doomed. Form is hollowed and tightened so their bones are visible through their skin, lips torn and shredded so that their teeth always show, the body white as snow. Like a walking corpse, rising from the grave. When transformation completes, the monster finds insatiable hunger, one it attempts to quench with those they once held close... It cannot satiate this thirst, however, for every human they consume, the hunger grows too, leaving it forever unsatisfied. The body cannot be killed unless the heart, now turned to ice, is melted down.

Despite the efforts of those that take on the spirit, it cannot be destroyed like the person they possessed. And unfortunately, human greed is widely prevalent, especially in times of strife, like during the long winters it so often manifests in. As is, Canadian winters are deadly, and a member of the tribe taking more rations than their share would jeopardize everyone. If not by inviting the cannibal spirit into themself, then by starving everyone, inspiring more disorder that would further summon it.

Because of this threat, many tribes that believe in the Wendigo’s power made certain to enforce the seriousness of its threat. From recollections of the spirits luring the unwitting with voices of those they could trust into the woods to be devoured, to whole ceremonial practices, the lengths people went to prevent Wendigo from coming into being were far and away as manic as the monster itself. No surprise it would lead to the deaths of those believed to be transforming into Wendigo, striking at the monster’s weakest moment.

The narrative implications of Wendigo haven’t been ignored by those who feared it. Like any monster, it reflects the fears of the people, and that worry was spawned by what brought it into our world: Uncontrolled want. Excessive desire. Greed. Today, First Nation populations struggle with unsafe infrastructure; they lack clean drinking water; they face the highest suicide rates, and still they are treated less than human. The Canadian government, despite all the trouble they already caused them, promised to alleviate their issues, but years later, they still suffer. 

The Wendigo is real. It strives to create imbalance, to divide those it once dwelled with. It is willing to endlessly steal just to assuage a hole in their heart that cannot be filled. It decrees sweet nothings to draw in the uneducated and devour them whole when their use is fulfilled. It would’ve been easier to deal with when it wasn’t fully empowered, yet here it is now. 

The Wendigo is real; it wears a suit and tie. It’s eating Canada alive. 

__________________________________________________________________________________

Maddox Charles Gordon Morphy is an aspiring writer and artist from Ottawa, on a constant hunt for those strange and enthralling things. A student at Algonquin College for Professional Writing, he is early in his career of traversing avenues unexplored by more prevalent authors. Despite his lack of time in the field, he’s already pushed himself to take on the the difficulties ahead with grace. Here’s hoping to a long career!