The Lord of The Flies by William Golding

WILLIAM GOLDING
Lord of the Flies
faber and faber
LONDON BOSTON

Contents

|1 |The Sound of the Shell|1 |
|2 |Fire on the Mountain |30 |
|3 |Huts on the Beach |48 |
|4 |Painted Faces and Long|60 |
| |Hair | |
|5 |Beast from Water |81 |
|6 |Beast from Air |103 |
|7 |Shadows and Tall Trees|119 |
|8 |Gift for the Darkness |136 |
|09 |A View to a Death |160 |
|10 |The Shell and the |171 |
| |Glasses | |
|11 |Castle Rock |187 |
|12 |Cry of the Hunters |203 |
CHAPTER ONE
The Sound of the Shell
The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and
began to pick his way towards the lagoon. Though he had taken off his
school sweater and trailed it now from one hand, his grey shirt stuck to
him and his hair was plastered to his forehead. All round him the long scar
smashed into the jungle was a bath of heat. He was clambering heavily among
the creepers and broken trunks when a bird, a vision of red and yellow,
flashed upwards with a witch-like cry; and this cry was echoed by another.
'Hi!' it said, 'wait a minute!'
The undergrowth at the side of the scar was shaken and a multitude of
raindrops fell pattering.
'Wait a minute,' the voice said, 'I got caught up.'
The fair boy stopped and jerked his stockings with an automatic gesture
that made the jungle seem for a moment like the Home Counties.
The voice spoke again.
'I can't hardly move with all these creeper things.'
The owner of the voice came backing out of the undergrowth so that twigs
scratched on a greasy wind-breaker. The naked crooks of his knees were
plump, caught and scratched by thorns. He bent down, removed the thorns
carefully, and turned round. He was shorter than the fair boy and very fat.

1


He came forward, searching out safe lodgements for his feet, and then
looked up through thick spectacles.
'Where's the man with the megaphone?'
The fair boy shook his head.
'This is an island. At least I think it's an island. That's a reef out in
the sea. Perhaps there aren't any grown-ups anywhere.' The fat boy looked
startled.
'There was that pilot. But he wasn't in the passenger tube, he was up in
the cabin in front.'
The fair boy was peering at the reef through screwed-up eyes. 'All them
other kids,' the fat boy went on. 'Some of them must have got out. They
must have, mustn't they?'
The fair boy began to pick his way as casually as possible towards the
water. He tried to be offhand and not too obviously uninterested, but the
fat boy hurried after him. 'Aren't there any grown-ups at all?'
'I don't think so.'
The fair boy said this solemnly; but then the delight of a realized
ambition overcame him. In the middle of the scar he stood on his head and
grinned at the reversed fat boy.
'No grown-ups!'
The fat boy thought for a moment. 'That pilot.'
The fair boy allowed his feet to come down and sat on the steamy earth.
'He must have flown off after he dropped us. He couldn't
land here. Not in a plane with wheels.' 'We was attacked!'
'He'll be back all right.'
The fat boy shook his head.
'When we was coming down I looked through one of them windows. I saw the
other part of the plane. There were flames coming out of it.'
2

He looked up and down the scar.
'And this is what the tube done.'
The fair boy reached out and touched the jagged end of a trunk. For a
moment he looked interested.
'What happened to it?' he asked.