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Lord of the Flies
The
boy
with
fair
hair
lowered
himself
down
the
last
few
feet
of
rock
and
began
to
pick
his
way
toward
the
lagoon
.
Though
he
had
taken
off
his
school
sweater
and
trailed
it
now
from
one
hand
,
his
grey
shirt
stuck
to
him
and
his
hair
was
plastered
to
his
forehead
.
All
round
him
the
long
scar
smashed
into
the
jungle
was
a
bath
of
heat
.
He
was
clambering
heavily
among
the
creepers
and
broken
trunks
when
a
bird
,
a
vision
of
red
and
yellow
,
flashed
upwards
with
a
witch-like
cry
;
and
this
cry
was
echoed
by
another
.
"
Hi
!
"
it
said
.
"
Wait
a
minute
!
"
The
undergrowth
at
the
side
of
the
scar
was
shaken
and
a
multitude
of
raindrops
fell
pattering
.
"
Wait
a
minute
,
"
the
voice
said
.
"
I
got
caught
up
.
"
The
fair
boy
stopped
and
jerked
his
stockings
with
an
automatic
gesture
that
made
the
jungle
seem
for
a
moment
like
the
Home
Counties
.
The
voice
spoke
again
.
"
I
ca
n't
hardly
move
with
all
these
creeper
things
.
"
The
owner
of
the
voice
came
backing
out
of
the
undergrowth
so
that
twigs
scratched
on
a
greasy
wind-breaker
.
The
naked
crooks
of
his
knees
were
plump
,
caught
and
scratched
by
thorns
.
He
bent
down
,
removed
the
thorns
carefully
,
and
turned
around
.
He
was
shorter
than
the
fair
boy
and
very
fat
.
He
came
forward
,
searching
out
safe
lodgments
for
his
feet
,
and
then
looked
up
through
thick
spectacles
.
"
Where
's
the
man
with
the
megaphone
?
"
The
fair
boy
shook
his
head
.
"
This
is
an
island
.
At
least
I
think
it
's
an
island
.
That
's
a
reef
out
in
the
sea
.
Perhaps
there
are
n't
any
grownups
anywhere
.
"
