Lord of the Flies | Page 3

into the sand. The expression of pain and concentration
returned to Piggy's face.
“Half a sec'.”
He hastened back into the forest. Ralph stood up and trotted along to
the right.
Here the beach was interrupted abruptly by the square motif of the
landscape; a great platform of pink granite thrust up uncompromisingly
through forest and terrace and sand and lagoon to make a raised jetty
four feet high. The top of this was covered with a thin layer of soil and
coarse grass and shaded with young palm trees. There was not enough
soil for them to grow to any height and when they reached perhaps
twenty feet they fell and dried, forming a criss-cross pattern of trunks,
very convenient to sit on. The palms that still stood made a green roof,
covered on the underside with a quivering tangle of reections from the
lagoon. Ralph hauled himself onto this platform, noted the coolness and
shade, shut one eye, and decided that the shadows on his body were re-
ally green. He picked his way to the seaward edge of the platform and

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Quitstood looking down into the water. It was clear to the bottom and bright
with the eforescence of tropical weed and coral. A school of tiny, glitter-
ing sh icked hither and thither. Ralph spoke to himself, sounding the
bass strings of delight.
“Whizzoh!”
Beyond the platform there was more enchantment. Some act of God—
a typhoon perhaps, or the storm that had accompanied his own arrival—
had banked sand inside the lagoon so that there was a long, deep pool
in the beach with a high ledge of pink granite at the further end. Ralph
had been deceived before now by the specious appearance of depth in
a beach pool and he approached this one preparing to be disappointed.
But the island ran true to form and the incredible pool, which clearly was
only invaded by the sea at high tide, was so deep at one end as to be
dark green. Ralph inspected the whole thirty yards carefully and then
plunged in. The water was warmer than his blood and he might have
been swimming in a huge bath.
Piggy appeared again, sat on the rocky ledge, and watched Ralph's
green and white body enviously.
“You can't half swim.”
“Piggy.”
Piggy took off his shoes and socks, ranged them carefully on the ledge,
and tested the water with one toe.
“It's hot!”

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Quit“What did you expect?”
“I didn't expect nothing. My auntie—”
“Sucks to your auntie!”
Ralph did a surface dive and swam under water with his eyes open; the
sandy edge of the pool loomed up like a hillside. He turned over, holding
his nose, and a golden light danced and shattered just over his face. Piggy
was looking determined and began to take off his shorts. Presently he was
palely and fatly naked. He tiptoed down the sandy side of the pool, and
sat there up to his neck in water smiling proudly at Ralph.
“Aren't you going to swim?”
Piggy shook his head.
“I can't swim. I wasn't allowed. My asthma—”
“Sucks to your ass-mar!”
Piggy bore this with a sort of humble patience.
“You can't half swim well.”
Ralph paddled backwards down the slope, immersed his mouth and
blew a jet of water into the air. Then he lifted his chin and spoke.
“I could swim when I was ve. Daddy taught me. He's a commander
in the Navy. When he gets leave he'll come and rescue us. What's your
father?”
Piggy ushed suddenly.
“My dad's dead,” he said quickly, “and my mum—”
He took off his glasses and looked vainly for something with which to

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Quitclean them.
“I used to live with my auntie. She kept a candy store. I used to get
ever so many candies. As many as I liked. When'll your dad rescue us?”
“Soon as he can.”
Piggy rose dripping from the water and stood naked, cleaning his glasses
with a sock. The only sound that reached them now through the heat of
the morning was the long, grinding roar of the breakers on the reef.
“How does he know we're here?”
Ralph lolled in the water. Sleep enveloped him like the swathing mi-
rages that were wrestling with the brilliance of the lagoon.
“How does he know we're here?”
Because, thought Ralph, because, because. The roar from the reef be-
came very distant.
“They'd tell him at the airport.”
Piggy shook his head, put on his ashing glasses and looked down at
Ralph.
“Not them. Didn't you hear what the pilot said? About the atom bomb?
They're all dead.”
Ralph pulled himself out of the water, stood facing Piggy, and consid-
ered this unusual problem.
Piggy persisted.
“This an island, isn't it?”
“I climbed a rock,” said Ralph slowly, “and I think this is an island.”

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Quit“They're all dead,” said Piggy, “an' this is an island. Nobody don't know
we're here. Your dad don't know, nobody don't know—”
His lips quivered and the spectacles were dimmed with mist.
“We may stay here till we die.”
With that word