His captor called out in his own language, and presently another Indian came running up.  A few words passed between them, when the latter stepping forward, Sassacus made a motion to Spikeman to follow, placing himself at the same time in the rear.  Resistance would have been unavailing, and could serve no other purpose than to rouse the passions of the Indians, and invite immediate injury.  Something might yet happen to his advantage.  He might be rescued, or effect his escape, or the chapter of accidents might have something else favorable, he knew not what, in store.  The Assistant, therefore, quietly submitted, and followed as ordered.

Their course lay directly through the densest portions of the forest, and as the rapidity of their progress was impeded by the constrained position of the captive’s arms, Sassacus, as if in contempt of any effort to escape, cut the ligatures with the knife that hung at his neck, intimating the motive at the same time by an acceleration of speed.  As Spikeman was thus hurried along, his thoughts went after Prudence, and he wondered what had become of her.  Notwithstanding his own peril, he felt (and it proves the deep interest he cherished for the girl) a melancholy pleasure in the hope that she had escaped, not that even though she had fallen into the hands of the savages, he would have entertained fears for her life, but she might have been doomed to a hopeless captivity, far away from friends, whom she was never to see again, and condemned, in some distant wigwam, to exchange the comforts of civilization for a wild life, which, to her, could bring only wretchedness.  Bad as was Spikeman, and lamentable as might be his infatuation for the girl, there was even in that, something which redeemed it from being utter evil.

Daylight had now faded entirely away, but the Indians abated not their speed, and pursued their course in a straight line, as though guided by an infallible instinct.  In this manner they proceeded for nearly two hours, and, at the expiration of the time, arrived at a collection of three or four lodges of the rudest structure.  Several of the natives were lying on the ground, smoking their pipes, but they took no other notice of the newcomers than looking at them as they came up.  Sassacus led the way into the largest wigwam, and, having directed his prisoner to sit down, left the cabin.

Spikeman knew well enough that, with all this seeming inattention, he was vigilantly watched, yet could he not forbear from walking to the entrance, looking around at the same time, if, by chance, he might espy a weapon.  He saw none, however, and two stout Indians made motions to him to return.  Meditating on his situation, and casting about in his mind for expedients, either to evade his captors or to change the resolution of the Pequot chief, which, he doubted not, aimed at his life, he resumed his seat.  He was unable to remain more than a few moments in quiet, and presently again approached the opening, and this time beheld a sight which curdled his blood.