But there seemed no place to go.

The Fire-Men were everywhere, bent on their task of extermination.

Every way we turned we encountered them, and because of this we saw much of their handiwork.
I did not see what became of my mother, but I did see the Chatterer shot down out of the old home-tree.

And I am afraid that at the sight I did a bit of joyous teetering.

Before I leave this portion of my narrative, I must tell of Red-Eye.