LORD OF THE FLIES
Chapter 6: Beast from the Air
SCENE 1
NARRATOR: A sliver of moon rose over the horizon, hardly large enough to make a path of light even when it sat right down on the water; but there were other lights in the sky, that moved fast, winked, or went out, though not even a faint popping came down from the battle fought at ten miles’ height. But a sign came down from the world of grown-ups, though at the time there was no child awake to read it. There was a sudden bright explosion and corkscrew trail across the sky; then darkness again and stars. There was a speck above the island, a figure dropping swiftly beneath a parachute, a figure that hung with dangling limbs. The changing winds of various altitudes took the figure where they would. Then, three miles up, the wind steadied and bore it in a descending curve round the sky and swept it in a great slant across the reef and the lagoon toward the mountain. The figure fell and crumpled among the blue flowers of the mountain-side, but now there was a gentle breeze at this height too and the parachute flopped and banged and pulled. So the figure, with feet that dragged behind it, slid up the mountain. Yard by yard, puff by puff, the breeze hauled the figure through the blue flowers, over the boulders and red stones, till it lay huddled among the shattered rocks of the mountain-top. Here the breeze was fitful and allowed the strings of the parachute to tangle and festoon; and the figure sat, its helmeted head between its knees, held by a complication of lines. When the breeze blew, the lines would strain taut and some accident of this pull lifted the head and chest upright so that the figure seemed to peer across the brow of the mountain. Then, each time the wind dropped, the lines would slacken and the figure bow forward again, sinking its head between its knees. So as the stars moved across the sky, the figure sat on the mountain-top and bowed and sank and bowed again.
In the darkness of early morning there were noises by a rock a little way down the side of the mountain. Sam and Eric rolled out a pile of brushwood and dead leaves, two dim shadows talking sleepily to each other. They were the twins, on duty at the fire.
SAM: “I believe it’s out.”
NARRATOR: He fiddled with the sticks that were pushed into his hands.
ERIC: “Don’t burn the lot you’re putting on too much.”
SAM: “We’ll only have to fetch more wood.”
NARRATOR: Eric spread out his hands, searching for the distance at which the heat was just bearable. Idly looking beyond the fire, he resettled the scattered rocks from their flat shadows into daylight contours. Just there was the big rock, and the three stones there, that split rock, and there beyond was a gap—just there—
ERIC: “Sam.”
SAM: “Huh?”
ERIC: “Nothing.”
NARRATOR: The flames were mastering the branches, the bark was curling and falling away, the wood exploding. The tent fell inwards and flung a wide circle of light over the mountain-top.
ERIC: “Sam—”
SAM: “Huh?”
ERIC: “Sam! Sam!”
NARRATOR: Sam looked at Eric irritably. The intensity of Eric’s gaze made the direction in which he looked terrible, for Sam had his back to it. He scrambled round the fire, squatted by Eric, and looked to see. They became motionless, gripped in each other’s arms, four unwinking eyes aimed and two mouths open. Far beneath them, the trees of the forest sighed, then roared. The hair on their foreheads fluttered and flames blew out sideways from the fire. Fifteen yards away from them came the plopping noise of fabric blown open.
Neither of the boys screamed but the grip of their arms tightened and their mouths grew peaked. For perhaps ten seconds they crouched like that while the flailing fire sent smoke and sparks and waves of inconstant light over the top of the mountain.Then as though they had but one terrified mind between them they scrambled away over the rocks and fled.
SCENE 2
NARRATOR: Ralph was dreaming. He had fallen asleep after what seemed hours of tossing and turning noisily among the dry leaves. Even the sounds of nightmare from the other shelters no longer reached him, for he was back to where he came from, feeding the ponies with sugar over the garden wall. Then someone was shaking his arm, telling him that it was time for tea.
ERIC: “Ralph! Wake up!”
RALPH: “What’s the matter?”
SAM: “We saw—”
ERIC: “—the beast—”
SAM: “—plain!”
SAM & ERIC: “We saw the beast—”
NARRATOR: The leaves were roaring still. Piggy bumped into him and a twin grabbed him as he made for the oblong of paling stars.
ERIC: “You can’t go out—it’s horrible!”
RALPH: “Piggy—where are the spears?”
PIGGY: “I can hear the—”
RALPH: “Quiet then. Lie still.”
NARRATOR: They lay there listening, at first with doubt but then with terror to the description the twins breathed at them between bouts of extreme silence. Soon the darkness was full of claws, full of the awful unknown and menace. Ralph knelt in the entrance to the shelter and peered cautiously round him.
RALPH: “Sam ’n Eric. Call them to an assembly. Quietly. Go on.”
NARRATOR: The twins, holding tremulously to each other, dared the few yards to the next shelter and spread the dreadful news. Ralph stood up and walked for the sake of dignity, though with his back pricking, to the platform. Piggy and Simon followed him and the other boys came sneaking after.
Ralph took the conch from where it lay on the polished seat and held it to his lips; but then he hesitated and did not blow. The circle of boys before him bristled with hunting spears. He handed the conch to Eric, the nearest of the twins.
ERIC: “We’ve seen the beast with our own eyes. No—we weren’t asleep—”
NARRATOR: Sam took up the story. By custom now one conch did for both twins,for their substantial unity was recognized.
SAM: “It was furry. There was something moving behind its head—wings. The beast moved too—”
ERIC: “That was awful. It kind of sat up—”
SAM: “The fire was bright—”
ERIC: “We’d just made it up—”
SAM: “—more sticks on—”
ERIC: “There were eyes—”
SAM: “Teeth—”
ERIC: “Claws—”
SAM: “We ran as fast as we could—”
ERIC: “Bashed into things—”
SAM: “The beast followed us—”
ERIC: “I saw it slinking behind the trees—”
SAM: “Nearly touched me—”
NARRATOR: Ralph pointed fearfully at Eric’s face, which was striped with scars where the bushes had torn him.
RALPH: “How did you do that?”
NARRATOR: Eric felt his face.
ERIC: “I’m all rough. Am I bleeding?”
NARRATOR: The circle of boys shrank away in horror. Johnny, yawning still, burst into noisy tears and was slapped by Bill till he choked on them. The bright morning was full of threats and the circle began to change. It faced out, rather than in, and the spears of sharpened wood were like a fence. Jack called them back to the center.
JACK: “This’ll be a real hunt! Who’ll come?”
RALPH: “These spears are made of wood. Don’t be silly.”
NARRATOR: Jack sneered at him.
JACK: “Frightened?”
RALPH: “ ’Course I’m frightened. Who wouldn’t be?”
NARRATOR: Piggy took the conch.
PIGGY: “Couldn’t we—kind of—stay here? Maybe the beast won’t come near us.”
NARRATOR: But for the sense of something watching them, Ralph would have shouted at him.
RALPH: “Stay here? And be cramped into this bit of the island, always on the lookout? How should we get our food? And what about the fire?”
JACK: “Let’s be moving. We’re wasting time.”
RALPH: “No we’re not. What about the littluns?”
JACK: “Sucks to the littluns!”
RALPH: “Someone’s got to look after them.”
JACK: “Nobody has so far.”
RALPH: “There was no need! Now there is. Piggy’ll look after them.”
JACK: “That’s right. Keep Piggy out of danger.”
RALPH: “Have some sense. What can Piggy do with only one eye?”
NARRATOR: Piggy took off his damaged glasses and cleaned the remaining lens.
PIGGY: “How about us, Ralph? Suppose the beast comes when you’re all away. I can’t see proper, and if I get scared—”
JACK: “You’re always scared.”
PIGGY: “I got the conch—”
JACK: “Conch! Conch! We don’t need the conch any more. We know who ought to say things. What good did Simon do speaking, or Bill, or Walter? It’s time some people knew they’ve got to keep quiet and leave deciding things to the rest of us.”
RALPH: “You haven’t got the conch. Sit down.”
NARRATOR: Jack’s face went so white that the freckles showed as clear, brown flecks. He licked his lips and remained standing.
JACK: “This is a hunter’s job.”
RALPH: “This is more than a hunter’s job, because you can’t track the beast. And don’t you want to be rescued? I said before, the fire is the main thing. Now the fire must be out—”
NARRATOR: The old exasperation saved him and gave him the energy to attack.
RALPH: “Hasn’t anyone got any sense? We’ve got to relight that fire. You never thought of that, Jack, did you? Or don’t any of you want to be rescued?”
NARRATOR: Yes, they wanted to be rescued, there was no doubt about that; and with a violent swing to Ralph’s side, the crisis passed.
RALPH: “Now think, Jack. Is there anywhere on the island you haven’t been?”
JACK: “There’s only—but of course! You remember? The tail-end part, where the rocks are all piled up. I’ve been near there. The rock makes a sort of bridge. There’s only one way up.”
RALPH: “And the thing might live there.”
NARRATOR: All the assembly talked at once.
RALPH: “Quiet! All right. That’s where we’ll look. If the beast isn’t there we’ll go up the mountain and look; and light the fire.”
SCENE 3
NARRATOR: After they had eaten, Ralph and the biguns set out along the beach. Simon, walking in front of Ralph, felt a flicker of incredulity—a beast with claws that scratched, that sat on a mountain-top, that left no tracks and yet was not fast enough to catch Samneric. However Simon thought of the beast, there rose before his inward sight the picture of a human at once heroic and sick.
He sighed. Other people could stand up and speak to an assembly, apparently, without that dreadful feeling of the pressure of personality; could say what they would as though they were speaking to only one person. He stepped aside and looked back. Ralph was coming along, holding his spear over his shoulder. Simon allowed his pace to slacken until he was walking side by side with Ralph and looking up at him through the coarse black hair that now fell to his eyes. Ralph glanced sideways, smiled constrainedly as though he had forgotten that Simon had made a fool of himself, then looked away again at nothing. For a moment or two Simon was happy to be accepted and then he ceased to think about himself. When he bashed into a tree Ralph looked sideways impatiently and Robert sniggered. Simon reeled and a white spot on his forehead turned red and trickled. Ralph dismissed Simon and returned
to his personal hell.
He followed Jack toward the castle where the ground rose slightly. Ralph parted the screen of grass and looked out. The rock of the cliff was split and the top littered with great lumps that seemed to totter.
Behind Ralph the tall grass had filled with silent hunters. Ralph looked at Jack.
RALPH: “I’m chief. I’ll go. Don’t argue.”
NARRATOR: He turned to the others.
RALPH: “You. Hide here. Wait for me.”
NARRATOR: He forced his feet to move until they had carried him out on to the neck. He was surrounded on all sides by chasms of empty air. There was nowhere to hide, even if one did not have to go on. A sound behind him made him turn. Jack was edging along the ledge.
JACK: “Couldn’t let you do it on your own.”
NARRATOR: Ralph said nothing. He led the way over the rocks, inspected a sort of half-cave that held nothing more terrible than a clutch of rotten eggs, and at last sat down, looking round him and tapping the rock with the butt of his spear.
RALPH: “We’ll have to go back and climb the mountain. That’s where they saw the beast.”
JACK: “The beast won’t be there.”
RALPH: “What else can we do?”
NARRATOR: The others, waiting in the grass, saw Jack and Ralph unharmed and broke cover into the sunlight. They forgot the beast in the excitement of exploration.
JACK: “What a place for a fort!”
NARRATOR: A knot of boys, making a great noise that Ralph had not noticed, were heaving and pushing at a rock. As he turned, the
base cracked and the whole mass toppled into the sea so that a thunderous plume of spray leapt half-way up the cliff.
RALPH: “Stop it! Stop it! We need to restart the fire on the mountain. We need smoke. And you go wasting your time. You roll rocks.”
NARRATOR: The clamor broke out. Some of the boys wanted to go back to the beach. Some wanted to roll more rocks. The sun was bright and danger had faded with the darkness.
RALPH: “Jack. The beast might be on the other side. You can lead again. You’ve been.”
BOY #1: “Ralph! Why can’t we stay here for a bit?”
BOY #2: “That’s right.”
BOY #3: “Let’s have a fort.”
RALPH: “There’s no food here. And no shelter. Not much fresh water.”
BOY #1: “This would make a wizard fort.”
BOY #2: “We can roll rocks—”
BOY #3: “Right onto the bridge—”
RALPH: “I say we’ll go on! We’ve got to make certain. We’ll go now.”
BOY #1: “Let’s stay here—”
BOY #2: “Back to the shelter—”
BOY #3: “I’m tired—”
RALPH: “No! I’m chief. We’ve got to make certain about the beast. And the fire! Can’t you see the mountain? There’s no signal showing. There may be a ship out there. Are you all off your rockers?”
NARRATOR: Mutinously, the boys fell silent or muttering. Jack led the way down the rock and across the bridge.