The Ghosts of Cape Cod

by Bill Russo

  Sharp toothed mountain lions sat quietly next to fat quail as Ahsoo crooned. Plump rats reclined entranced, against the sides of hungry snakes as both species closed their eyes while the dreamy music brought peace and silence to the forest.

  Even the raging Santuit River, at the end of the creek, slowed down near the place where the golden voiced woman warbled her surreal melodies.

  All the creatures of the Mashpee woods and waters loved the sonorous voice of the ugly girl, but none more than the biggest fish in the Santuit River. He was called The Great Trout due to his massive size.

  So large was The Great Trout that he was far too huge to be able to swim the creek to get closer to the girl of the enchanting songs. The Great Trout had to content himself with listening from afar.

  Day after day the giant fish would wallow at the end of the creek half in and half out of the water, trying to push himself to the woman he loved. As he listened to her magnificent voice, he imagined that Ahsoo was just as beautiful to look at, as to listen to.

  At the end of every day the poor fish would flop over on his side, exhausted from his work of trying to enlarge the creek enough so that he could finally get close to his love. As he fell into a deep sleep, he dreamed of the day that he would finally reach the girl with the voice so wonderful as to put the entire forest in rapture.

  At dawn, the sun would start to dry the exposed scales on his side and The Great Trout would have to roll over and over in the muddy water to keep himself wet.

  Sometimes his work was so hard that his gills had to flap like a hummingbird to supply enough air to keep him going. Yet every time he thought he could drag himself no further up the creek, he would hear Ahsoo’s splendid singing and push on with renewed strength.

  As the summer waned, the heroic fish was within 20 feet of the talented Ahsoo. He still could not see her for his vision was blocked by a ragged old Maple tree that had fallen across the creek.

  The trunk was thick and had many sharp branches jutting out in all directions. It was a formidable foe, but the brave fish decided to fight it. He charged at the rotting maple and pushed with all his power. The ancient hardwood gave an inch or two.

  Again The Great Trout rammed his bulk into the wooden hulk and again it budged two or perhaps three inches.

  His strength almost gone, the determined trout revved up for another thrust. He backed up until he was more than 20 feet from the knotty old trunk and raced towards it.

  He smashed into it and the old tree finally gave way. The route to Ahsoo was free! As the wizened Maple Tree twisted and began to float down the creek towards the river, two of its sturdy branches moved. They moved just as if they were the muscled arms of a boxer.

  With the deftness of a surgeon the wooden arms poked into the eyes of the unfortunate trout and blinded him. Ahsoo saw the plight of The Great Trout and ran to help him.

  “I need no help my beautiful Ahsoo. That I am here is enough. Even though blinded I now be, I am next to you who I have loved since I heard your first song. Sing for me now and it will ease my pain.”

  Ahsoo sang a love song to the blind fish and as usual the noises and activities of the forest stopped as all the beasts, birds, and fishes crowded around her to listen.

  There was a new creature among the entranced. Its face resembled that of a human. It was four feet tall and entirely covered in fur. Its face looked kindly, with eyes slightly too big, like those of a cat.

  The creature had a round belly and looked to be in the early stages of old age. His eyes had a sad look. As Ahsoo sang to her injured trout, the eyes of the creature filled with tears.

  What happened next has been told in oral histories for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. Ahsoo stopped singing and the creature walked over to her and spoke into her ear. Quietly so that none could hear, not even the fish, he whispered to the girl with the golden throat and the face of a goat.

  That which was said, no one knows exactly, but what happened was that the girl nodded enthusiastically and smiled.

  “Yes, Yes,” she said.

  In a puff of smoke the creature disappeared and Ahsoo was transformed into a trout! Ahsoo and The Great Trout floated down the creek into the river, and finally into Santuit Pond.

  The lovers expected that they would swim happily in the calm waters for many years. This was not to be, for the labors of The Great Trout had so drained him, he soon died from exhaustion.

  His true love, Ahsoo, died right after - from a broken heart.

  The Native Americans of Mashpee took Ahsoo and The Great Trout from the lake and brought them to a spacious wigwam, in hopes they could find the creature who had changed Ahsoo into a fish.

  They were certain that the creature, who was known to be a Puckwudgie, could bring the lovers back to life.

  Puckwudgies are unpredictable and elusive, and he was not to be found. So reluctantly, the people buried the golden throat and her hero side by side in a large mound. That mound exists today. It is called Trout Cave and is near the river dug by The Great Trout.

  The Puckwudgie, or his ancestor, is still around today and makes occasional appearances between Cape Cod and an area in Southeastern Massachusetts called “The Bridgewater Triangle”.

  Ahsoo and the great trout swim in spirit together in the waters of Mashpee and sometimes it is said that if you go on the old Ghost Road by the rotary near Mashpee Commons, you might hear beautiful singing – warbling so magnificent as to make the whole forest stop to listen.

  The old Ghost Road of Mashpee is a secluded, abandoned section of Route 28. It was discarded, when the Mashpee Rotary was built decades ago.

  Although overgrown and shielded from view, the Ghost Road is still there and walking on it is a surreal experience. If you look carefully as you motor around the rotary, you will see the partially hidden entrance. Hikers, bikers, and walkers use the roadway frequently.

  Even if you do not see and hear The Great Trout and Ahsoo, the Old Ghost Road is a fascinating place to visit.

  With the story of Ahsoo, so closes the chapter of the Upper Cape. Next, we’ll look at the ghosts and legends of the Mid Cape, which consists of three towns - Barnstable, Dennis, and Yarmouth.

  Chapter Three – The Mid Cape

  After being a vacationer, a seasonal cottage owner, and finally a full time resident of Cape Cod for about two decades: I will state for the record that, as of the date of publication of this book, I have not even once seen a ghost on the Cape.

  However, in the town of Raynham, in Southeastern Massachusetts, while on a midnight walk, I met a talkative, eerie Puckwudgie.

  My blog about that encounter led to an appearance in The Bridgewater Triangle Documentary film, as well as being featured in an episode of Monsters and Mysteries in America, on Discovery’s Destination America channel.

  My book about the Puckwudgie meeting, ‘The Creature From the Bridgewater Triangle’, has been a steady seller in paperback and as an E-book on Amazon and Kindle.

  As I stated, on Cape Cod, I have never seen a ghost, but in and around Scargo Lake, I have had a few things happen that at least border on the paranormal.

  In Dennis, on the Route 6A side, high above the beautiful pond named for Princess Scargo, is the most beautiful burial ground in the world. Yet it has no gravestones. It also has no entrance, no parking lot, no keeper and no caretaker.

  It is the ancient, mysterious graveyard of the Nobscusset Tribe. There is but one identifying feature, a single engraved slab of stone. It reads “Burial Ground of the Nobscusset Tribe of Indians of which Tribe Mashhatampaine was Chief.”

  There is no gate, but the enclosure is flanked by iron rails buried deep into granite posts. Inside, a lush carpet of grass and fallen pine needles cushion your walk through an aromatic grove of hemlock and pine.

  There are other things in the burial yard. Objects placed by travelers to honor Princess Scargo who is said to be resting in the grove to keep watch upon her lake.

  I’ll tell you more about
the odd array of objects to be found in the graveyard, but first a few photos that I took during a recent visit.

  I said that there is no entrance to the cemetery. There actually is a way to enter; it is through the Arboreal Arch – an overgrown tunnel of brush and bush, which is illustrated in the following picture.

  ©Bill Russo

  The Arboreal Arch is off of Route 6A, but for most tourists and even locals, the exact location remains a mystery. At the end of the story of the burial ground and Princess Scargo, I will list clear directions for those who wish to visit this serene, mystical, and spiritual location.

  After traversing the Arboreal Arch you will be at the entrance to the burial grounds.

  ©by Bill Russo

  Inside Scargo’s resting place, at first you see only the row of Hemlock and Pine.

  Gradually you’ll spot the odd gifts and trinkets left for Scargo by wanderers, travelers, and friends. The day that I visited, there were several weather-beaten dollar bills, and a pile of small change - quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies.

  There’s an old hat, some buttons, pieces of pottery, and beads of all description. There’s an ever expanding eclectic collection of ‘curios’ in Scargo’s grave.

  Nobody ever takes anything away. People just seem to want to leave something for Scargo. They search in their pocket and deposit whatever their hand brings up.

  ©by Bill Russo

  ©by Bill Russo

  ©by Bill Russo

  I never felt any ghostly presence at the burial ground. No cold spots, no eerie noises, and no ethereal braves or squaws. What I did encounter and I believe you will too, is a peaceful and warm feeling. This silent oasis near some of Cape Cod’s busiest beaches, lends itself perfectly to meditation and relaxation.

  As for Scargo Lake itself, I have had one or two things happen there, that may not qualify as paranormal, but were odd. I’ll get into that after I relate the legend of Scargo Lake and the Princess for which it is named.

  Scargo Lake as shown in a 1930s post card.

  The story starts about a hundred years after Columbus and his crew stumbled onto what is now called the Americas, while trying to find a direct route from Europe to Asia.

  As the year 1600 began, the people of Cape Cod had yet to be ‘discovered’. In less than a dozen seasons, the Europeans would be coming in force to occupy their land. The most famous of the early ‘explorers’ was Bartholomew Gosnold of Suffolk, England. He is credited with giving Cape Cod its name.

  In the middle of the narrow sandbar that Gosnold named, was a place and a tribe, called Nobscusset. There was little of riches and resources in the village. In truth, the ragged group was the poorest and shabbiest in the land.

  The Nobscussetts had a single, tiny settlement of barely 100 people. Their Chief, Sagem, was neither remarkable in appearance nor ability. The tribe survived from one moon to the next, but never prospered.

  It was not so with the mighty nation of the Wampanoags. They had thirty villages from one end of the peninsula to the other. The Mashpee had a number of communities; as did the Nauset, the Massachuset, and several other tribes.

  It is estimated that when Gosnold made his exploration of the sandy land, there were as many as 5,000 indigenous people on Cape Cod. Among the mightiest warriors, was Chief Massasoit. He could equip and assemble a war party faster than an arrow can fly. As an orator, he spoke words that were hotter and smokier than a campfire. All his villages grew and prospered.

  Many moons in the future, when giant boats would cross the big water, it would fall to Massasoit to meet with the foreigners and wrestle out the agreements that would keep the people safe.

  It was said that the Nobscussets were like poor relations next to royalty, compared to Massasoit and the other chiefs. Yet they had one asset that was treasured above all others - Princess Scargo, the daughter of Chief Sagem.

  His wife had died giving birth to their only child, leaving Sagem a listless and moody man. Yet, like a rare and radiant Rosa Stellata – a desert rose - Scargo grew from barren, un-nourished soil into the most spectacular specimen of womanhood ever seen in the new world or the old.

  So pretty was Princess Scargo that warriors would come from either end of Cape Cod to the middle of the land where the Nobscussett village was, just to see her. Often, they brought gifts that helped sustain the people when the farming was poor as it often was in soil that was mostly salt and sand.

  The village was built around a small fresh-water spring that threatened to dry up during the days of the long sun. Twelve wigwams circled the spring and formed the entire settlement.

  Princess Scargo lived in the largest one, with her father, her grandmother, and her father’s brother and his family - ten people altogether. Each wigwam had between eight and twelve occupants.

  If the tribe grew, they would simply add more wigwams. They were easy to make. The women would get six spruce poles and tie them together at the top with the roots. The poles would be stood up and spread out to make a cone. The covering was fashioned from large overlapping strips of birch bark. Birch trees were plentiful. It took only a few hours to get enough bark to completely cover a large wigwam.

  The season of long-suns was more than two moons old when a warrior came to the village one morning not long after sunrise.

  Weaquaquet Comes to Scargo

  “My name is Weaquaquet, and I seek the beautiful Princess Scargo,” the tall stranger announced to the first person he saw.

  Directed to the spring, he walked until he saw her, standing at the edge drawing water. She was even more beautiful than he had been told. Unlike his tribe, her skin was light and yet it was beautiful. Her long hair was the color of a night with no moon.

  Her eyes were as wide as a clam shell and sparkled like a blade ready to slit a cod. She had full lips and wide hips and Weaquaquet was instantly filled with love.

  “Everywhere there is a campfire, men talk of you,” Weaquaquet told her. “The old ones, the magic ones, the warriors too - all speak of your beauty and your gentle nature.

  Chief Massasoit sends me to all his villages to bring his messages to his chieftains. Some distant villages are five running days away. But no matter how far I go, I hear of you.”

  Scargo listened as the young warrior spoke. He was handsome like many of the young men who had come to visit her. But he had something more. His calm, smooth voice hinted at a gentle nature that she found very attractive.

  By the time the sun crossed to mid-sky, Scargo and Weaquaquet had joined hearts. She took him to meet her father and Weaquaket gave Sagem the greatest of respect. He shared news from Massasoit and suggested that the great chief would be willing to offer protection and assistance to the Nobscusset people.

  “I have to return to the ‘end of the earth', where my people live,” Weaquaquet announced as sunset neared. “The ‘end of the earth’ is just a single arrow-shoot wide. The Big Water surrounds us to the East, the North and the South".

  "In the middle of the arrow-shoot is rich earth that grows giant food. Only as wide as 10 wigwams and as long as 20, this farm is able to grow enough food to feed two big Wampanoag villages."

  "And even during the long-sun days when all the waters in the ‘end of the earth’ start to dry up, the rich-farm continues to thrive.“

  Reluctantly, the young lovers parted. Weaquaquet had to return to his village where orders from Massasoit awaited him - orders that would take him on a long journey of not just moons, but whole seasons.

  Before he left, he promised Scargo and Sagem that as he next passed their village on his business for Massasoit, he would bring a gift from the rich-farm. It would be a gift unlike anything they had seen. It would be a secret present of something unknown outside of the Wampanoag capital city.

  From Princess Scargo’s Tower in Dennis, your eyes will scan beautiful Cape Cod Bay and you’ll spy Provincetown forty miles across the water.

  The Mighty Wampanoag Nation

  He left on a kiss from S
cargo and ran non-stop to the ‘end of the earth’. So swiftly did Weaquaket run, he squeezed a two day warrior’s journey into less than one sun.

  Standing on a flat stone at land's edge, with The Big Water all around him and a brisk wind whipping salt into his eyes, Weaquaquet met with Massasoit to receive his orders.

  Squinting, due to a relentless sun in a cloudless sky, he gazed at Massasoit. The Chief, tall and immovable on the rock, had his face painted in war colors - half red and half black. His supple bow was in his left hand. In his right, he clutched his lucky amulet, made from the tooth of a fox. It looked for a moment like the big man was actually formed of rock and not of flesh.

  Massasoit spoke and shared tribal secrets with young Weaquaquet. Through his nation, the great leader was known by many different names. The Massachuset and the Nauset called him 'Yellow Feather." The Mashpee knew him as Naumkeg. In other villages he was known by other names and other titles.

  "The Massachuset do not know that Chief Yellow Feather is also Chief Naumkeg. They think that the two are different chiefs! I do this so that no people will know my true strength. But the time is coming when I will have to make myself known to all," he explained.

  “You know of only thirty villages of our people, but there are many more. The Wampanoag nation stretches not for five days run, but for ten times five days run."

  " My two brothers are Chiefs of villages in a land far away where there are hills so high it takes half a sun to climb them."

  "I have picked you Weaquaquet, to take twenty braves with you and visit my brothers and all my villages as far away as the nation of the Mohegan.”

  “When you return, you must bring all of my Sachems to the ‘end of the earth’. We will meet here to talk about the Big Water.”