The retreat ended in a panic and precipitate flight.

Hemmed in on all sides, amid a shower of lances and stones thrown from the mountain above, the Turks fled pell-mell down the rocky and precipitous ravines.

Mistaking their route, they came to a precipice from which there was no retreat.

The screaming and yelling savages closed round them.

Fighting was useless; the natives, under cover of the numerous detached rocks, offered no mark for an aim, while the crowd of armed savages thrust them forward with wild yells to the very verge of the great precipice about five hundred feet below.