Lord of the Flies | Page 6

sand,
and they saw that the darkness was not all shadow but mostly clothing.
The creature was a party of boys, marching approximately in step in two
parallel lines and dressed in strangely eccentric clothing. Shorts, shirts,
and different garments they carried in their hands; but each boy wore
a square black cap with a silver badge on it. Their bodies, from throat
to ankle, were hidden by black cloaks which bore a long silver cross on
the left breast and each neck was nished off with a ham-bone frill. The
heat of the tropics, the descent, the search for food, and now this sweaty
march along the blazing beach had given them the complexions of newly
washed plums. The boy who controlled them was dressed in the same

Home Page
Title Page
Contents
JJ II
J I
Page 25 of 290
Go Back
Full Screen
Close
Quitway though his cap badge was golden. When his party was about ten
yards from the platform he shouted an order and they halted, gasping,
sweating, swaying in the erce light. The boy himself came forward,
vaulted on to the platform with his cloak ying, and peered into what to
him was almost complete darkness.
“Where's the man with the trumpet?”
Ralph, sensing his sun-blindness, answered him.
“There's no man with a trumpet. Only me.”
The boy came close and peered down at Ralph, screwing up his face as
he did so. What he saw of the fair-haired boy with the creamy shell on
his knees did not seem to satisfy him. He turned quickly, his black cloak
circling.
“Isn't there a ship, then?”
Inside the oating cloak he was tall, thin, and bony; and his hair was
red beneath the black cap. His face was crumpled and freckled, and ugly
without silliness. Out of this face stared two light blue eyes, frustrated
now, and turning, or ready to turn, to anger.
“Isn't there a man here?”
Ralph spoke to his back.
“No. We're having a meeting. Come and join in.”
The group of cloaked boys began to scatter from close line. The tall
boy shouted at them.
“Choir! Stand still!”

Home Page
Title Page
Contents
JJ II
J I
Page 26 of 290
Go Back
Full Screen
Close
QuitWearily obedient, the choir huddled into line and stood there swaying
in the sun. None the less, some began to protest faintly.
“But, Merridew. Please, Merridew. . . can't we?”
Then one of the boys opped on his face in the sand and the line broke
up. They heaved the fallen boy to the platform and let him lie. Merridew,
his eyes staring, made the best of a bad job.
“All right then. Sit down. Let him alone.”
“But Merridew.”
“He's always throwing a faint,”said Merridew. “He did in Gib.; and
Addis; and at matins over the precentor.”
This last piece of shop brought sniggers from the choir, who perched
like black birds on the criss-cross trunks and examined Ralph with in-
terest. Piggy asked no names. He was intimidated by this uniformed
superiority and the offhand authority in Merridew's voice. He shrank to
the other side of Ralph and busied himself with his glasses.
Merridew turned to Ralph.
“Aren't there any grownups?”
“No.”
Merridew sat down on a trunk and looked round the circle.
“Then we'll have to look after ourselves.”
Secure on the other side of Ralph, Piggy spoke timidly.
“That's why Ralph made a meeting. So as we can decide what to do.
We've heard names. That's Johnny. Those two—they're twins, Sam 'n

Home Page
Title Page
Contents
JJ II
J I
Page 27 of 290
Go Back
Full Screen
Close
QuitEric. Which is Eric—? You? No—you're Sam—”
“I'm Sam—”
“ 'n I'm Eric.”
“We'd better all have names,” said Ralph, “so I'm Ralph.”
“We got most names,” said Piggy. “Got 'em just now.”
“Kids' names,” said Merridew. “Why should I be Jack? I'm Merridew.”
Ralph turned to him quickly. This was the voice of one who knew his
own mind.
“Then,” went on Piggy, “that boy—I forget—”
“You're talking too much,” said Jack Merridew. “Shut up, Fatty.”
Laughter arose.
“He's not Fatty,” cried Ralph, “his real name's Piggy!”
“Piggy!”
“Piggy!”
“Oh, Piggy!”
A storm of laughter arose and even the tiniest child joined in. For the
moment the boys were a closed circuit of sympathy with Piggy outside:
he went very pink, bowed his head and cleaned his glasses again.
Finally the laughter died away and the naming continued. There was
Maurice, next in size among the choir boys to Jack, but broad and grin-
ning all the time. There was a slight, furtive boy whom no one knew, who
kept to himself with an inner intensity of avoidance and secrecy. He mut-
tered that his name was Roger and was silent again. Bill, Robert, Harold,

Home Page
Title Page
Contents
JJ II
J I
Page 28 of 290
Go Back
Full Screen
Close
QuitHenry; the choir boy who had fainted sat up against a palm trunk, smiled
pallidly at Ralph and said that his name was Simon.
Jack spoke.
“We've got to decide about being rescued.”
There was a buzz. One of the small boys, Henry, said that he wanted
to go home.
“Shut up,” said Ralph absently. He lifted the conch. “Seems to me we
ought to have a chief to decide things.”
“A chief! A chief!”
“I ought to be chief,” said Jack with simple arrogance, “because I'm
chapter chorister and head boy. I can sing C sharp.”
Another buzz.
“Well then,” said Jack, “I—”
He