Free Rampage by Lee Mellor Page A

their blessings. The child had grown up competent and carefree. As a young man he was proud of his proficiency in hunting and trapping, and his ability to craft weapons and snowshoes for wars against the neighbouring Blackfoot. Though something of an introvert, he was respected among his fellow Cree for his athleticism — combining his natural size and power with cat-like agility. While raiding a Blackfoot encampment, he had acquired a horse, a symbol of great status among his people. With his tall stature, good humour, and impressive achievements, he was able to easily woo a beautiful young woman named Sun-on-the-Mountain, and they soon fell in love. Typically there were arranged marriages in Cree society, but Swift Runner successfully broke with this convention when he brought Sun-on-the-Mountain’s father the gift of a horse. Sun-on-the-Mountain presented her suitor with a pair of moccasins in return. Upon his acceptance of her offering, they were married, and her people erected a new teepee.
    Much of Swift Runner’s adulthood was spent in marital bliss, fathering five children by his radiant wife. He traded regularly with the white man and lived a nomadic lifestyle, hunting and tracking buffalo across what is now central Alberta. As the years went by, however, fewer and fewer of these great beasts roamed the plains. Increasingly, the confident and capable Swift Runner found himself unable to provide meat for his beloved family. There was many a night when his children fell asleep with empty bellies. The world was changing beyond Swift Runner’s understanding or capacity to adapt to it, sapping his self-esteem and drowning him in the darkest depths of depression.
    While food was scant, there was always an abundance of whisky. As his mood blackened, Swift Runner began to partake in the white man’s poison. The alcohol redirected his internal frustrations and resentments outward, and he began to sob uncontrollably and lash out at those around him. His personal philosophy changed along with the prairie; where he had once been a revered contributor to his tribe, he now saw all men as isolated entities in constant competition for resources, and paranoia set in. The once good-natured Swift Runner developed a reputation as a violent and volatile man, and people did their best to avoid him. Voices whispered to him now in tones that only he could hear. Cruel fantasies flooded his thoughts, sweetening his resentment with visions of revenge and exacerbating his homicidal tendencies. Physically, he was numb, as if an alien entity were slowly invading his body. Hope was disappearing from his life faster than the buffalo.
    By the winter of 1878, the psychological door keeping Swift Runner’s murderous impulses at bay was rotten and rusted at the hinges. The cruelty of that bleak season, fuelled by whisky and self-loathing, would prove to be the blow that sent it crashing in. Camped out in the snows nearly 130 kilometres north of Fort Saskatchewan, Swift Runner had been forced to slaughter the dogs to feed his family. With his stomach aching, his memories began drifting back to the smoky fires of his youth, where tribal elders had told tales of the Windigo — a hideous monster who possessed a man’s soul and drove him to cannibalism.
    The presence of the Windigo seemed to grow stronger with his hunger. It was now mid-February 1879, and whenever Swift Runner went out to hunt he found himself returning empty-handed. A strange throbbing pain pervaded his muscles, and he felt something raking at his skin. No longer did he leave in search of prey — instead, his covetous eyes shifted to his own family. Of stronger resolve, his mother-in-law and brother set out looking for food, followed soon after by his wife and all but one of his children. Alone at the camp with the hapless boy, Swift Runner finally succumbed to the Windigo’s maddening cries. One night as his son slept, Swift Runner approached him in a trance-like state, as if he