It was not burned as much here as in the front, and in the houses
all around, people were out on their roofs with wet blankets, and some
were standing at the windows watching the fire, or packing up their
belongings ready to move if it should spread to them. There was a narrow
lane running up a short distance toward the hotel, and I started to go
up this, when in front of me I heard such a wailing, piercing noise,
that it made me shudder and stand still. The Italian's animals were
going to be burned up and they were calling to their master to come and
let them out. Their voices sounded like the voices of children in mortal
pain. I could not stand it. I was seized with such an awful horror of
the fire, that I turned and ran, feeling so thankful that I was not in
it. As I got into the street I stumbled over something. It was a large
bird--a parrot, and at first I thought it was Bella. Then I remembered
hearing Jack say that the Italian had a parrot. It was not dead, but
seemed stupid with the smoke. I seized it in my mouth, and ran and laid
it at Mr. Morris's feet. He wrapped it in his handkerchief, and laid it
beside him.
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