Buried Cities, vol 1, Pompeii | Page 4

man. He looked wild with fear. He was
clutching a little statue of gold. Ariston called to him, "Which way to
the gate?"
But the man did not hear. He rushed madly on. Ariston followed him. It
cheered the boy a little to see that somebody else was still alive in the
world. But he had a hard task. He could not run. The soft pebbles
crunched under his feet and made him stumble. He leaned far forward
under his heavy burden. The falling shower scorched his bare arms and
legs. Once a heavy stone struck him on his cushioned head, and he fell.
But he was up in an instant. He looked around bewildered. His head
was ringing. The air was hot and choking. The sun was gone. The
shower was blinding. Whose house was this? The door stood open. The
court was empty. Where was the city gate? Would he never get out? He
did not know this street. Here on the corner was a wine shop with its
open sides. But no men stood there drinking. Wine cups were tipped
over and broken on the marble counter. Ariston stood in a daze and
watched the wine spilling into the street.
Then a crowd came rushing past him. It was evidently a family fleeing
for their lives. Their mouths were open as though they were crying. But
Ariston could not hear their voices. His ears shook with the roar of the
mountain. An old man was hugging a chest. Gold coins were spilling
out as he ran. Another man was dragging a fainting woman. A young
girl ran ahead of them with white face and streaming hair. Ariston
stumbled on after this company. A great black slave came swiftly
around a corner and ran into him and knocked him over, but fled on
without looking back. As the Greek boy fell forward, the rough little
pebbles scoured his face. He lay there moaning. Then he began to
forget his troubles. His aching body began to rest. He thought he would
sleep. He saw Apollo smiling. Then Caius struggled and cried out. He
pulled at the blanket and tried to free himself. This roused Ariston, and
he sat up. He felt the hot pebbles again. He heard the mountain roar. He
dragged himself to his feet and started on. Suddenly the street led him
out into a broad space. Ariston looked around him. All about stretched
wide porches with their columns. Temple roofs rose above them.
Statues stood high on their pedestals. He was in the forum. The great
open square was crowded with hurrying people. Under one of the

porches Ariston saw the money changers locking their boxes. From a
wide doorway ran several men. They were carrying great bundles of
woolen cloth, richly embroidered and dyed with precious purple. Down
the great steps of Jupiter's temple ran a priest. Under his arms he
clutched two large platters of gold. Men were running across the forum
dragging bags behind them.
Every one seemed trying to save his most precious things. And every
one was hurrying to the gate at the far end. Then that was the way out!
Ariston picked up his heavy feet and ran. Suddenly the earth swayed
under him. He heard horrible thunder. He thought the mountain was
falling upon him. He looked behind. He saw the columns of the porch
tottering. A man was running out from one of the buildings. But as he
ran, the walls crashed down. The gallery above fell cracking. He was
buried. Ariston saw it all and cried out in horror. Then he prayed:
"O Lord Poseidon, shaker of the earth, save me! I am a Greek!"
Then he came out of the forum. A steep street sloped down to a gate. A
river of people was pouring out there. The air was full of cries. The
great noise of the crowd made itself heard even in the noise of the
volcano. The streets were full of lost treasures. Men pushed and fell
and were trodden upon. But at last Ariston passed through the gateway
and was out of the city. He looked about.
"It is no better," he sobbed to himself.
The air was thicker now. The shower had changed to hot dust as fine as
ashes. It blurred his eyes. It stopped his nostrils. It choked his lungs. He
tore his chiton from top to bottom and wrapped it about his mouth and
nose. He looked back at Caius and pulled the blanket over his head.
Behind him a huge cloud was reaching out long black arms from the
mountain to catch him. Ahead, the sun was only a red wafer in the
shower of ashes. Around him people were running off to hide under
rocks or trees