[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

The twins were silent again.
"Here!" said Sam suddenly. "Take this--"
Ralph felt a chunk of meat pushed against him and grabbed it.
"But what are you going to do when you catch me?"
Silence above. He sounded silly to himself. He lowered himself down the rock.
"What are you going to do--?"
From the top of the towering rock came the incomprehensible reply.
"Roger sharpened a stick at both ends."
Roger sharpened a stick at both ends. Ralph tried to attach a meaning to this but
could not. He used all the bad words he could think of in a fit of temper that
passed into yawning. How long could you go without sleep? He yearned for a bed and
sheets--but the only whiteness here was the slow spilt milk, luminous round the rock
forty feet below, where Piggy had fallen. Piggy was everywhere, was on this neck,
was become terrible in darkness and death. If Piggy were to come back now out of the
water, with his empty head--Ralph whimpered and yawned like a littlun. The stick in
his hand became a crutch on which he reeled.
Then he tensed again. There were voices raised on the top of the Castle Rock.
Samneric were arguing with someone. But the ferns and the grass were near. That was
the place to be in, hidden, and next to the thicket that would serve for tomorrow's
hideout. Here--and his hands touched grass--was a place to be in for the night, not
far from the tribe, so that if the horrors of the supernatural emerged one could at
least mix with humans for the time being, even if it meant . . .
What did it mean? A stick sharpened at both ends. What was there in that? They had
thrown spears and missed; all but one. Perhaps they would miss next time, too.
He squatted down in the tall grass, remembered the meat that Sam had given him, and
began to tear at it ravenously. While he was eating, he heard fresh noises--cries of
pain from Samneric, cries of panic, angry voices. What did it mean? Someone besides
himself was in trouble, for at least one of the twins was catching it. Then the
voices passed away down the rock and he ceased to think of them. He felt with his
hands and found cool, delicate fronds backed against the thicket. Here then was the
night's lair. At first light he would creep into the thicket, squeeze between the
twisted stems, ensconce himself so deep that only a crawler like himself could come
through, and that crawler would be jabbed. There he would sit, and the search would
pass him by, and the cordon waver on, ululating along the island, and he would be
free.
He pulled himself between the ferns, tunneling in. He laid the stick beside him, and
huddled himself down in the blackness. One must remember to wake at first light, in
order to diddle the savages--and he did not know how quickly sleep came and hurled
him down a dark interior slope.
Page 135
Lord of the Flies
He was awake before his eyes were open, listening to a noise that was near. He
opened an eye, found the mold an inch or so from his face and his fingers gripped
into it, light filtering between the fronds of fern. He had just time to realize
that the age-long nightmares of falling and death were past and that the morning was
come, when he heard the sound again. It was an ululation over by the seashore-- and
now the next savage answered and the next. The cry swept by him across the narrow
end of the island from sea to lagoon, like the cry of a flying bird. He took no time
to consider but grabbed his sharp stick and wriggled back among the ferns. Within
seconds he was worming his way into the thicket; but not before he had glimpsed the
legs of a savage coming toward him. The ferns were thumped and beaten and he heard
legs moving in the long grass. The savage, whoever he was, ululated twice; and the
cry was repeated in both directions, then died away. Ralph crouched still, tangled
in the ferns, and for a time he heard nothing.
At last he examined the thicket itself. Certainly no one could attack him here--and
moreover he had a stroke of luck. The great rock that had killed Piggy had bounded
into this thicket and bounced there, right in the center, making a smashed space a
few feet in extent each way. When Ralph had wriggled into this he felt secure, and
clever. He sat down carefully among the smashed stems and waited for the hunt to
pass. Looking up between the leaves he caught a glimpse of something red. That must [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]