The Wendigo
submitted by: Dylon Whyte
Hi, I'm Dylon and I like collecting Fortean stories. This one was told to me by a friend who was raised by his Grandfather on the Island. He preferred not to share the exact location or individuals involved.
I was just a young boy when Grandfather first told me stories of "the Windeego", a malicious spirit which inhabited the small lake beside his cabin that would sometimes tip canoes and try to drown children.
I have to say that growing up I never really believed him, until I was late returning home one evening while riding Grandfather's snow cat.
The moon was full and the aurora danced with greens, blues, yellows and even rare reds. I decided to conserve fuel and take a shortcut across the small lake instead of following the familiar trail along the shoreline, despite grandfather's warning to never attempt crossing the lake water, frozen or otherwise.
At first everything seemed fine and I was flying, making good time until halfway across the lake's expanse when the distant light of Grandfather's cabin came into sight. It was then that a blinding snow squall came out of nowhere, stunning me with a blast of frigid air and ice crystals like sharp knives.
With sight of the shore now gone I was lost and instinctively slowed down, attempting to regain my bearings on the lake's endless expanse of ice and snow. This is when I first saw it, a huge bulky mass of shaggy white hair, shambling through the flurry with eyes flashing red in the snow cat's headlight.
Having no desire in encountering what looked like death at the heart of this maelstrom, I gunned the snow cat's engine and made a beeline for the opposite direction. For just a moment I was able to out pace the blizzard and catch sight of the moon, which allowed me to adjust my path towards Grandfather's Cabin.
Suddenly the winter elements intensified and now seemed to be chasing me. With little warning, I felt something's icy breath on my neck and its claws rip at the back of my hand-me-down snow suit as I hit a snowbank on the shoreline.
The assault dissipated in a wisp behind me almost as quickly as it had formed and after sailing at least twenty feet through the air, I landed in Grandfather's yard, barely missing the woodpile. It was with a firm thud that I touched down on the snow packed ground.
I hurried the snow cat under the shed, parking and covering it with a crisp blue tarp before racing inside to tell Grandfather about my encounter.
"Fool, those were just stories I told to keep you off the lake at night! Squalls like that are not uncommon out here, something to do with the snow bands and big waters that surround the Island."
"But Grandfather, look!" I showed him the back of my suit, where I was sure it had been shredded by the Windeego's claws.
"You probably just caught your suit on some branches. That was quite a stunt you pulled, jumping over the shore like that. Who said you could take my snow cat out anyway?"
Photo credit: Pyro-helfier