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site. They say that Brent Severson, a well-respected farmer, was walking along the road by that place one night and heard some little kids screaming their lungs out. There was a light in the trailer across the road, but nothing extraordinary was going on. The house across from it seemed to have nothing going on either, and they were the only two homes around that had any kids. Severson looked over to that field and saw that half a chimney just sitting there growing weeds around it, and he decided to walk briskly the rest of the way home.
    Cal Owens, a town preacher, was known to have been walking by the place with his two daughters, when they all heard crying and screaming of small children. They knelt down right there in the road and prayed a bit. Then they went home to tell Mrs. Owens.
    Another time a family was visiting the area on vacation. It was a cloudy day, no day for the beach, so the parents left their kids to play in the town park. The husband and wife got their camera out of the car and started walking up the hill, towards the Cosgrove estate road. The stone chimney ruins caught their eye, and they took several snapshots of the area.
    A week later they got their pictures back, and instead of the photos of an old chimney, there were the pictures of a huge white mansion with two chimneys, all intact. The couple figured that the developing studio had mixed up their pictures with someone else’s, and checked it out. No, there had been no mistake. There were also no photos of a lone chimney.
    Within the last three years there have been so many incidents of people taking pictures of a “house that wasn’t there,” that Northport has become famous for its unusual haunted house. There’s even a photograph hanging on the wall of the local diner. You can hardly get more significant than that.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN
TAUKOLEXIS
    Y ou won’t see him in the middle of the day, when tourists are winding their way around the tower after paying their dollar at the desk. The visitors are curious about the old iron artifacts, the muskets, the view from the top. The children point out the cannon balls and try to move an extra large one attached to a podium. They all pass him by. No one thinks to prowl around the huge jagged boulder lightly veiled in the damp shade of the foundation. It is here that his spirit lurks, to remind us of the pain endured in imprisonment.
    Taukolexis came to be a prisoner in Fort William Henry, at Pemaquid, by doing a friend a favor. The date was February 1696. Chiefs Egremet, Toxus, and Abenaquid had stopped at Taukolexis’s camp to seek company for a peacemaking journey to Fort William Henry. They noticed a tall, stalwart man squatting by a fire and asked him to come along. The man looked at them with strong eyes and told them that he would be unafraid to go, but that his wife and children were sick and needed his care. There was another man, equally as able as he and compassionate enough to take his place on the trip, his friend and neighbor.
    So it was that Taukolexis went with the three chiefs to see if a prisoner exchange could be worked out with Captain Crabb, commander of the fort. The men stopped at another Indian camp and gained several recruits before arriving at their destination, white flag in hand. Considering all the recent fighting that had occurred between the French and Indians and the English settlers at Pemaquid, everyone knew that the operation, though wellintended, would be risky.
    Fort William Henry was such a bone of contention because it was of great importance to all parties. The Indians wanted it free and clear for transportation. They wanted to be able to paddle their canoes around that point, instead of the treacherous Pemaquid Point farther out on the ocean. During English occupancy, they were forced to use Pemaquid Point, today a beautiful spot graced by a grand lighthouse. Back then, however, the mass of rocks and spirited seas surrounding the Point