The hills, the mountain tops, were their only safety.

Their centurions and tribunes were foremost among the fugitives.

And from these mountain crests they were to come down the next morning and surrender themselves prisoners to the conquerors--petitioners for their lives.
Not all were thus fated.

For in the flight from the camp Domitius fell down from fatigue, and Marcus Antonius, whose hand knew no weariness, neither his heart remorse or mercy, slew him as a man would slay a snake.

And so perished one of the evil spirits that hounded Pompeius to his death, the Roman oligarchy to its downfall.
Drusus sought far and wide for Lentulus and Lucius Ahenobarbus.