While this creature is considered by many to be the creation of horror writer Algernon Blackwood in his classic terror tale, "The Wendigo", this woods spirit was, and is, very real to many in the northern woods and prairies of the state. Many legends and stories have circulated over the years about a mysterious creature who was encountered by hunters and campers in the shadowy forests of the upper regions of Minnesota. In one variation of the story, the creature could only be seen if it faced the witness head-on, because it was so thin that it could not be seen from the side. The spirit was said to have a voracious appetite for human flesh and the many forest dwellers who disappeared over the years were said to be victims of the monster.

The American Indians had their own tales of the Wendigo, dating back so many years that most who were interviewed could not remember when the story had not been told. Their version of the story spoke of a gigantic spirit, over fifteen feet tall, who was always encountered wearing white robes or clothing. This spirit was said to have a shining star on its forehead and its presence always signalled an upcoming death.

A Wendigo made a number of appearances near a town called Rosesu in Northern Minnesota from the late 1800's through the 1920's. Each time that it was reported, an unexpected death followed and finally, it was seen no more.

There are many who still believe that the Wendigo roams the woods and the prairies of northern Minnesota. Whether it seeks human flesh, or acts as a portent of coming doom, is anyone's guess but before you start to doubt that it exists.... remember that the stories and legends of this fearsome creature have been around since before the white man walked on these shores. The legends had to have gotten started somehow, didn't they?

The Wendigo is a Native American folk-lore and I borrowed aspects of many different types of dress. The costume was a success. It won Best Workmanship in Class and Best in Class Journeyman division at Luna-Con and it won Best Original in Class and a Workmanship award for feather work, bead work and leather work.

Wendigo Invocation

The Wendigo is a short story written by Algernon Blackwood, first published in The Lost Valley and Other Stories - London, 1910. A guide on a hunting party in the Canadian backwoods is seized by the Wendigo - the terrifying whirlwind horror that inhabits lonely places. It is composed of numerous animal forms and has an unusual odor that Blackwood describes as the scent of lions. It picks its "victims" up and carries them through the forest at an incredible speed. Defago,  prior to his abduction  describes it thus:

"It's nuthin'-nuthin' but what those lousy fellers believe when they've bin hitten' the bottle too long - a sort of great animal that lives up yonder,'' he jerked his head northwards, "quick as lightning in its tracks, an' bigger'n anything else in the Bush, an' ain't supposed to be very good to look at - that's all!"

Dr Cathcart says of it:

"The Wendigo is said to burn his feet - owing to the friction, apparently caused by its tremendous velocity - till they drop off, and new ones form exactly like its own.''

If you haven't read it, go read it for the complete view on it. I see the Wendigo as the Pan/Baphomet/Cernunnos of the nameless aeon. I invoke it using Casteneda's Gait of Power, a mad exulting run through the wilderness.

Go to the woods, or the mountain etc, preferably where no one will see you. Harsh weather such as a  thunderstorm is recommended so is nudity. Spend a while contacting the genius-loci, state your intent to it. Perhaps take a suitable substance, deliver the short enochian invocation then take off through the bush!

I am - of the winds - in the North

on - the wings - of the living breath - I - descend - on the Earth

I am - the thunders - in power exalted

soaring down - with feet - flaming

come ye - run - drunken - as a flame, your garments - the beasts of the field

I am - a strong seething - that - burns - in - the marrow

consume - the essesnce of life



"Simpson declares that Defago's face was more animal than human, the features drawn about into wrong proportions, the skin loose and hanging, as though he had been subjected to extraordinary pressures and tensions. It made him think vaguely of those bladder-faces blown up by the hawkers on city streets, that change their expression as they swell. But Cathcart long afterwards, seeking to describe the indescribable, asserts that thus might have looked a face and body that had been in air so rarefied that, the weight of atmosphere being removed, the entire structure threatened to fly asunder and become - incoherent...."

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A story by Tony and Bear


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