The following text is for questions 4 to 7.

    One morning, I was on my bike going to school. When I reached the T-junction, I was very shocked to see that the old wooden bridge had fallen down. Just a couple of days before the same bridge had stood proudly over the small sturdy road. After school, I used to stop over on the T-Junction and walk to the bridge. I spent some time enjoying the cold wind that mildly blew on my face. I usually saw an old woman feeding the birds under the big bars of the bridge. Then, I was worried, "What if she was asleep when the bridge fell down?"

    I felt a strong desire to find her. I got off my bike and rushed to the broken bridge. I crawled among the wooden bars. I focused my eyes and my ears in order to find the old woman. After some minutes, I heard a faint cooing noise somewhere in the darkness. When I got closer, I knew it was the sound of the birds that the old woman usually fed. They looked swollen and their eyes betrayed a look of death. "You poor things, look at you!" I exclaimed. It drove me to reach the spot as soon as possible.

    I had to be very careful because the wooden piles could bury me. Then, I was shocked. In the small hole, I saw the old woman was lying still, dead. She was surrounded by the birds. Then I fell onto my knees beside her, trying to hold the tears back. The sorrowful cries of the birds did not make it any easier. I buried my face in my hands and cried.

What happened to the old woman?