hastily intrenched. But it was impossible for them to remain there.
Their provisions were lost or exhausted, thousands of foes surrounded
them, and their only hope lay in immediate and rapid flight.

Sunrise came. The soldiers had recovered somewhat from the fatigue of
the day before. Setting fire to what baggage remained in their hands,
they began a retreat fighting as they went, for the implacable enemy
disputed every step. The first part of their route lay through an open
plain, where they marched in orderly ranks. But there were mountains
still to pass, and they quickly found themselves in a wooded and
pathless valley, in whose rugged depths defence was almost impossible.
Here they fell in thousands before the weapons of their foes. It was but
a small body of survivors that at length escaped from that deadly defile
and threw up intrenchments for the night in a more open spot.

With the dawn of the next day they resumed their progress, and were at
no great distance from their stronghold of Aliso when they found their
progress arrested by fresh tribes, who assailed them with murderous
fury. On they struggled, fighting, dying, marking every step of the
route with their dead. Varus, now reduced to despair, and seeing only
slaughter or captivity before him, threw himself on his sword, and died
in the midst of those whom his blind confidence had led to destruction.
Of the whole army only a feeble remnant reached Aliso, which fort they
soon after abandoned and fought their way to the Rhine. While this was
going on, the detachments which Varus had sent out in various directions
were similarly assailed, and met the same fate as had overtaken the main
body of the troops.

[Illustration: RETURN OF HERMANN AFTER HIS VICTORY OVER THE ROMANS.]