Read Online Lord of the Flies by William Golding - Free Book Online Page A

be, you know, very solemn, and someone would say we ought to build a jet, or a submarine, or a TV set. When the meeting was over they'd work for five minutes, then wander off or go hunting."
                Jack flushed.
                "We want meat."
                "Well, we haven't got any yet. And we want shelters. Besides, the rest of your hunters came back hours ago. They've been swimming."
                "I went on," said Jack. "I let them go. I had to go on. I--"
                He tried to convey the compulsion to track down and kill that was swallowing him up.
                "I went on. I thought, by myself--"
                The madness came into his eyes again.
                "I thought I might--kill."
                "But you didn't."
                "I thought I might."
                Some hidden passion vibrated in Ralph's voice.
                "But you haven't yet."
                His invitation might have passed as casual, were it not for the undertone.
                "You wouldn't care to help with the shelters, I suppose?"
                "We want meat--"
                "And we don't get it."
                Now the antagonism was audible.
                "But I shall! Next time! I've got to get a barb on this spear! We wounded a pig and the spear fell out. If we could only make barbs--"
                "We need shelters."
                Suddenly Jack shouted in rage.
                "Are you accusing--?"
                "All I'm saying is we've worked dashed hard. That's all."
                They were both red in the face and found looking at each other difficult. Ralph rolled on his stomach and began to play with the grass.
                "If it rains like when we dropped in we'll need shelters all right. And then another thing. We need shelters because of the--"
                He paused for a moment and they both pushed their anger away. Then he went on with the safe, changed subject.
                "You've noticed, haven't you?"
                Jack put down his spear and squatted.
                "Noticed what?"
                "Well. They're frightened."
                He rolled over and peered into Jack's fierce, dirty face.
                "I mean the way things are. They dream. You can hear 'em. Have you been awake at night?"
                Jack shook his head.
                "They talk and scream. The littluns. Even some of the others. As if--"
                "As if it wasn't a good island."
                Astonished at the interruption, they looked up at Simon's serious face.
                "As if," said Simon, "the beastie, the beastie or the snake-thing, was real. Remember?"
                The two older boys flinched when they heard the shameful syllable. Snakes were not mentioned now, were not mentionable.
                "As if this wasn't a good island," said Ralph slowly. "Yes, that's right."
                Jack sat up and stretched out his legs.
                "They're batty."
                "Crackers. Remember when we went exploring?" They grinned at each other, remembering the glamour of the first day. Ralph went on.
                "So we need shelters as a sort of--"
                "Home."
                "That's right."
                Jack drew up his legs, clasped his knees, and frowned in an effort to attain clarity.
                "All the same--in the forest. I mean when you're hunting, not when you're getting fruit, of course, but when you're on your own--"
                He paused for a moment, not sure if Ralph would take him seriously.
                "Go