How the cataclysm just stopped! It was as if nothing had happened.
Once again the sun lit up the dusk and a perfume emanated from the ground.
The children went back to their cabins and on the way talked about the storm. It had been throwing water on them through the windows and they'd watched it without worrying about getting wet or catching cold.
Their clothes were soaking wet; but what hadn't they seen! If only for the storm, it had been worth going up into the mountains.
What has become of their cabins? What's happened to the children who were left behind? Costakis, Georgios, Spyros, Kaloyannis, Foudoulis? How they had thought about them when the deluge came.
They walked down quickly. On the way they looked at the ground. It was hardly damp; it had drunk all the water and was parched.
As soon as they found themselves in front of their homes, they called out immediately to be heard. The five children who had stayed there came out one after the other. They were fine, but not the cabins.
Three huts had collapsed and were scattered. The water had carried away the branches and many things that had been inside.
It had swept away some bedcovers, the shelf, two canisters and two loaves of bread. As for Spyros's box, even the storm didn't take it.
In any case Spyros took it and threw away all the rusty things that were inside. Since the moment he'd found the stone, he had decided not to collect useless things.
—And you, where did you hide? asked Matthias.
—It took us by surprise, we were here inside, they replied. We barricaded the door with a mattress and held out for a long time with all our force. Anyway the cabin hasn't taken much water and in fact we came out of it quite well...
When the woodcutters had built the cabins, they had provided for everything, even the storm. One hut, the biggest, had been covered with a chrami, woven from goat's wool: that can resist anything.
That evening they learnt, from a peasant passing through on his way to Petra, that further down the storm had caused catastrophic damage. The village of Yeuse, was no more!
A strong downpour coming from the hillsides had drowned the corn, the tobacco and clovers. The water discharged by the torrent had carried away a bridge and from there it had plunged down into the village. Houses were destroyed in Yeuse, goats and sheep were drowned, and even some cows. It seemed that three villagers from Yeuse who were battling to save their house were swept away in the flood.
On hearing about this disaster, the children were sad and speechless. The peasant shook his head and added talking about the Yeusois: “Since they didn't leave a single root on the hillsides, whose fault is it? They themselves discharged the water which drowned them”