Lord of the Flies - William Golding [75]
Ralph edged forward, feeling his way over the uneven surface as though he were blind. There were miles of vague water at his right and the restless ocean lay under his left hand, as awful as the shaft of a pit. Every minute the water breathed round the death rock and flowered into a field of whiteness. Ralph crawled until he found the ledge of the entry in his grasp. The lookouts were immediately above him and he could see the end of a spear projecting over the rock.
He called very gently.
"Samneric―"
There was no reply. To carry he must speak louder; and this would rouse those striped and inimical creatures from their feasting by the fire. He set his teeth and started to climb, finding the holds by touch. The stick that had supported a skull hampered him but he would not be parted from his only weapon. He was nearly level with the twins before he spoke again.
"Samneric―"
He heard a cry and a flurry from the rock. The twins had grabbed each other and were gibbering.
"It's me. Ralph."
Terrified that they would run and give the alarm, he hauled himself up until his head and shoulders stuck over the top. Far below his armpit he saw the luminous flowering round the rock.
"It's only me. Ralph."
At length they bent forward and peered in his face.
"We thought it was―"
"―we didn't know what it was―"
"―we thought―"
Memory of their new and shameful loyalty came to them. Eric was silent but Sam tried to do his duty.
"You got to go, Ralph. You go away now―"
He wagged his spear and essayed fierceness.
"You shove off. See?"
Eric nodded agreement and jabbed his spear in the air. Ralph leaned on his arms and did not go.
"I came to see you two."
His voice was thick. His throat was hurting him now though it had received no wound.
"I came to see you two―"
Words could not express the dull pain of these things. He fell silent, while the vivid stars were spilt and danced all ways.
Sam shifted uneasily.
"Honest, Ralph, you'd better go."
Ralph looked up again.
"You two aren't painted. How can you―? If it were light―"
If it were light shame would burn them at admitting these things. But the night was dark. Eric took up; and then the twins started their antiphonal speech.
"You got to go because it's not safe―"
"―they made us. They hurt us―"
"Who? Jack?"
"Oh no―"
They bent to him and lowered their voices.
"Push off, Ralph―"
"―it's a tribe―"
"―they made us―"
"―we couldn't help it―"
When Ralph spoke again his voice was low, and seemed breathless.
"What have I done? I liked him―and I wanted us to be rescued―"
Again the stars spilled about the sky. Eric shook his head, earnestly.
"Listen, Ralph. Never mind what's sense. That's gone―"
"Never mind about the chief―"
"―you got to go for your own good."
"The chief and Roger―"
"―yes, Roger―"
"They hate you, Ralph. They're going to do you."
"They're going to hunt you tomorrow."
"But why?"
"I dunno. And Ralph, Jack, the chief, says it'll be dangerous―"
"―and we've got to be careful and throw our spears like at a pig."
"We're going to spread out in a line across the island―"
"―we're going forward from this end―"
"―until we find you."
"We've got to give signals like this."
Eric raised his head and achieved a faint ululation by beating on his open mouth. Then he glanced behind him nervously.
"Like that―"
"―only louder, of course."
"But I've done nothing," whispered Ralph, urgently. "I only wanted to keep up a fire!"
He paused for a moment, thinking miserably of the morrow. A matter of overwhelming importance occurred to him.
"What are you―?"
He could not bring himself to be specific at first; but then fear and loneliness goaded him.
"When they find me, what are they going to do?"
The twins were silent. Beneath him, the death rock flowered again.
"What are they―oh God! I'm hungry―"
The towering rock seemed to sway under him.
"Well―what―?"
The twins answered his question indirectly.
"You got to go now, Ralph."
"For your own good."