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Algernon Blackwood’s classic tale, The Wendigo. An influential novella by one of the most best-known writers of fantasy and horror, set in a place and time. The Wendigo [Algernon Blackwood] on *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. The Wendigo is a short novel that describes the terror of irrational. You can read a full version of The Wendigo here. Algernon Blackwood’s The Wendigo is one of the best known “ghost stories.” Chances are, if.

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Blackwood also did an excellent job using an almost pidgin-like language for the Canadian outdoorsmen, which conveyed their uncouth, uneducated manner and style. Also because, It seemed terribly bizarre to think that some wild force could essentially kidnap you, force you to run so fast your feet caught on fire, and your eyes bled. There was no other animal he could think of, for caribou did not come so far south at this season, and, even if they did, would leave hoof marks. Want to Read saving….

No guide, much less a guide like Defago, could have acted in so irrational a way, going off even without his rifle! That stern quality of the tangled backwoods which can only be described as merciless and terrible, rose out of these far blue hte swimming upon the horizon, and revealed itself.

There is the tangible fear of mortality in the harsh environment the narrator explores, as well as the fear of a real, physical presence lurking in the darkness, stalking the narrator. View all 5 comments.

The party round the blazing fire that night were despondent, for a week had passed without a single sign of recent moose discovering itself. Oh, my feet of fire!

These were some of the outer signs Far overhead, muted by great height and distance, strangely thinned and wailing, he heard the crying voice of Defago, the guide. It calls you by name right ‘nough.

Into the Woods: “The Wendigo” by Algernon Blackwood

Even while they talked, indeed, the end had probably come. For fiction that’s over a hundred years old, this one has kept remarkably well. The forest pressed round them with its encircling wall; the nearer tree stems gleamed like bronze in the firelight; beyond that–blackness, and, so far as he could tell, a silence of death.

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It is the Wendigo.

Into the Woods: “The Wendigo” by Algernon Blackwood | these strange woods

No one troubled to stir the slowly dying fire. A great kiss of wind ran softly through the awakening forest, and a few maple leaves here and there rustled tremblingly to earth. Perhaps, too, some sense of orientation, known to animals and primitive men, may have helped as well, for through all that tangled region he succeeded in reaching the exact spot where Defago had hidden the canoe nearly three days before with the remark, “Strike doo west across the lake into the sun to find the camp. On this particular expedition he was Hank’s choice.

His imagination searched vigorously, but in vain He still felt the warm pressure of that vanished body against his side; there lay the twisted blankets in a heap; the very tent yet trembled with the vehemence of the impetuous departure. With many works of classic horror literature, there tends to be a matter of pacing and datedness and language that can detract from sheer reading enjoyment.

I may write some more later, but I will probably revisit Blackwood in a collection that includes this story novella along with others. His face was the color of chalk, and there were strange flushes beneath the eyes. The lake gleamed like a sheet of black glass beneath the stars.

The Wendigo

He, Simpson, knew nothing of the story, and, so far as he remembered, had never even read about it. Hank turned towards the doctor. He began to follow them mechanically, absentmindedly almost, ever peering over his shoulder to see if he, too, were being followed by something with a gigantic tread Wake me at once blacwkood you feel–queer.

VI The sudden entrance of his prosaic uncle into this world of wizardry and blaciwood that had haunted him without interruption now for two days and two nights, had the immediate effect algeenon giving to the affair an entirely new aspect. Anyhow, he took longer to “find himself. But an hour later, when all slept like the dead, old Punk crept from his blankets and went down to the shore of the lake like a shadow–silently, as only Indian blood can move.

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The Wendigo (novella) – Wikipedia

A sky of rose and saffron, more clear than any atmosphere Simpson had ever known, still dropped its pale streaming fires across the waves, where the islands–a hundred, surely, rather than fifty–floated like the fairy barques of some enchanted fleet. And Hank has never seen fit to tell. The author’s language is full of sensory impressions that you get algegnon a dark forest. View all 4 comments. What might have happened in the next minute or two one may speculate about, yet never definitely know, for in the instant of profound thee that followed Hank’s roaring voice, and as though in answer to it, something went past through the darkness of the sky overhead at terrific speed–something of necessity very large, for it displaced much air, while down between the trees there fell a faint and windy cry of a human voice, calling in tones of indescribable anguish and appeal– “Oh, oh!

At first, indeed, he was not sure where he was–whether in one of the earlier camps, or at home in his bed at Aberdeen. The vast woods immediately impress the young man with their beauty and hostility. It looked as if the great algerno had lifted him with it and carried him across these astonishing intervals.

And his first feeling, before he could think or reflect, was the rush of a poignant and searching tenderness. Unfortunately, Blackwood, who was familiar with Lovecraft’s work, failed to return the compliment.