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- Уильям Голдинг
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Ralph
waved
the
conch
.
"
This
is
our
island
.
It
's
a
good
island
.
Until
the
grownups
come
to
fetch
us
we
'll
have
fun
.
"
Jack
held
out
his
hand
for
the
conch
.
"
There
's
pigs
,
"
he
said
.
"
There
's
food
;
and
bathing
water
in
that
little
stream
along
there
--
and
everything
.
Did
n't
anyone
find
anything
else
?
"
He
handed
the
conch
back
to
Ralph
and
sat
down
.
Apparently
no
one
had
found
anything
.
The
older
boys
first
noticed
the
child
when
he
resisted
.
There
was
a
group
of
little
boys
urging
him
forward
and
he
did
not
want
to
go
.
He
was
a
shrimp
of
a
boy
,
about
six
years
old
,
and
one
side
of
his
face
was
blotted
out
by
a
mulberry-colored
birthmark
.
He
stood
now
,
warped
out
of
the
perpendicular
by
the
fierce
light
of
publicity
,
and
he
bored
into
the
coarse
grass
with
one
toe
.
He
was
muttering
and
about
to
cry
.
The
other
little
boys
,
whispering
but
serious
,
pushed
him
toward
Ralph
.
"
All
right
,
"
said
Ralph
,
"
come
on
then
.
"
The
small
boy
looked
round
in
panic
.
