The attack was skilfully made. The knights crowded forward from all sides and threw the army of the Turks into confusion at every point at once so that no division could bring help to another, and the outer ranks were constantly trampled down by this superior foe.
Ali Pasha had received a bad wound on his arm from Banfy's last thrust, that took away his courage; he put spurs to his horse and gave the signal for retreat. The army of the Turks was driven headlong out of the town. The leaders strove to bring the troops to the mountains of Gyerto, where they thought they could gather their forces again in the passes.
Outside the town the battle went on in spite of the order to retreat. The Hungarians scattered the burning hay and in the darkness of the night became so mixed with their foes that they could only be distinguished by the war cry. The retreating army of the Turks in the darkness and confusion now fled toward the enemy, now cut down their own comrades, and in their effort to imitate the war cry of the Hungarians met with still greater misfortune, for since they could not pronounce Michael Angyal but shouted Michael Andschal instead, they were the more easily recognized by the Hungarians. The Turkish army was utterly defeated. They left more than a thousand dead in the streets and vicinity of the church; and had it not been for the mountain ravines where it was not advisable for the Hungarians to follow, they would have been completely annihilated.
George Veer ordered the trumpet to sound for the rally of the scattered troops, while Banfy in his restless rage sought to pursue the fleeing foe. In vain! Every way was closed by the hastily felled trees.
"We are forced to let them escape," said Veer, sheathing his sword.
"Maybe not," said Banfy, excited, and rode up a hill where he appeared to see something. Suddenly he shouted joyfully:—"Look there! The signal fires are just being lighted." And it was a fact! The signal bonfires were seen blazing in a long line along the Gyalu mountains.
"There are our men!" shouted Banfy, with fresh enthusiasm. "The Turk is in a snare!"
And he collected his forces again and galloped toward the barricaded streets, giving no heed to the warning of the more cautious Veer.
Ali Pasha had meantime sent ahead his tents, camels and the booty-laden wagons, with Dschem-Haman to open up the road over the mountain. While Dschem-Haman went forward in the darkness, leveling a road, he suddenly heard a conversation on the steep rocks towering above his head and saw a troop of armed men come in sight. Both troops spoke at once,—"Who are you? What are you doing?"