THE WENDIGO

When crops are scarce

and harsh winds blow cold

Algonquian natives hear a tale

retold of the flesh-eating beast

with glowing eyes, long claws,

sharp teeth and tremendous size.

Spawned, 'tis said, of dark human acts

and uses magic when it tracks any

unwary traveller to sate its desire

for the human flesh, it does require with

a hunger that just won't desist, there is

no defence, no chance to resist.

Those it chooses not to eat still cannot

find retreat if they express those mortal sins

of greed, gluttony or selfishness;

their minds the monster will possess

and they become what they all know

as that beast . . . the dreaded Wendigo

THUNDERBIRD

Wide frightened eyes watched white lightning

stitch ragged seams across grim skies.

Each stark flicker preceded by a

thunderous boom rattling windows,

startling hearts in the shaking room.

Past angry clouds a shadow flew, huge wings

flapping and the children knew from all the

ancient tales they'd heard, it was the monster

Thunderbird.

From coast to coast across the land, legends

grew from each native band about the mighty eagle

that blinked fire and created thunder with its wings.

The Kwakwaka'wakw, Bella Coola and the Haida

all knew it, but by a different name.

As well did the Ojibwa and Chippewa

but the creature was the same.

Even a coast away Mi'kmaq, Passamaquoddy and

Maliseet, Montagnais and Naskapi in smoky lodges

with children at their feet, recounted tales of

the fearsome bird that lived atop a craggy peak.

Tree branches and human bone formed the enormous

nest the bird called home, only leaving to hunt

for food but when denied, created havoc and

heaven cried.

The giant wings disrupted air, sending fiery bolts

everywhere and raging storms, over which

could be heard, the angry roar of the

Thunderbird.

Now huddled in a shivering group 'neath blankets

not one dared to snoop as the shadow blotted

out the light making it a darker night. Parents pushed

the shutters closed so no life inside would be

exposed, chanting ancient prayers heavenward

to protect them from the wrath of the

Thunderbird.

FROM THE UNCOVERED JOURNAL OF HANSEL

Journal entry - Hansel 1812

The moon's light is fractured as it staggers through the branches of the forest trees. I can hear my younger sister breathing softly beside me as she finally succumbs to sleep. Writing is difficult but I am managing with what meagre light is available to record the frightening, unbelievable events that have overtaken our lives.

I have to write his when she is asleep so that she won't be more upset and fall into a deeper depression. It came as quite a blow to learn that our own parents would sacrifice their children because there wasn't enough food, and choose to abandon us deep in this forest. Gretel cries and worries about being lost and with good reason.

Journal entry - Hansel 1812

I cannot give up, I promised Gretel I would take care of her and that we would come out of this, find our way back and all would be well, although I doubt now we would be welcome. We have wandered aimlessly, unable to find a path that may lead us safely anywhere.

Nights are cold and the sounds of animals send shivers up my back. I hold my sister in my arms and murmur soothing words of comfort. She knows that I am frightened as well and that while I coax her into sleep, I get very little, constantly watching the dark shadows.

Each day I tell her we might get lucky and finally find a way out of the forest but it just grows darker and deeper. I can't answer her questions about our parents, only try and keep her calm. She cries all the time now, frightened, and we are both tired and very hungry.

Journal entry - Hansel 1812

Today we were blessed. After hours of stumbling through thick forest, chewing on roots and bark, we came to a small clearing that held a welcoming looking little house made of bread! Gretel cried but his time with joy. A kindly looking old woman beckoned from the doorway, and we hurried forward to receive her hospitality.

Journal entry - Hansel 1812

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