He was bleeding himself from two slight wounds, but he paid no attention to them.

The need to flee pierced his soul, but he saw that it must be done, else all the rangers would be destroyed, and, while he still hesitated a moment or two, the silver whistle of St.Luc, urging on a fresh and greater attack, rose above all the sounds of combat.
Then he knew that he must wait no longer, and he gave the command for ordered flight.
Not more than half of the rangers escaped from that terrible converging attack.

St.Luc's triumph was complete.

He had won full revenge for his defeat by Andiatarocte, and he pushed the pursuit with so much energy and skill that Rogers bade the surviving rangers scatter in the wilderness to reassemble again, after their fashion, far to the south.
Black Rifle remained with the leader, but Robert, Tayoga and Willet continued their flight together, not stopping until night, when they were safe from pursuit.

As the three went southward through the deep forest, they saw many trails that they knew to be those of hostile Indians, and nowhere did they find a sign of a friend.