'What d'you mean?'
'Get rescued.'
For the first time that day, and despite the crowding blackness, Ralph sniggered.
'I mean it,' whispered Piggy. 'If we don't get home soon we'll be barmy.'
'Round the bend.'
'Bomb happy.'
'Crackers;'
Ralph pushed the damp tendrils of hair out of his eyes.
'You write a letter to your auntie.'
Piggy considered this solemnly.
'I don't know where she is now. And I haven't got an envelope and a stamp. An' there isn't a mailbox. Or a postman.'
The success of his tiny joke overcame Ralph. His sniggers became uncontrollable, his body jumped and twitched.
Piggy rebuked him with dignity.
'I haven't said anything all that funny.'
Ralph continued to snigger though his chest hurt. His twitchings exhausted him till he lay, breathless and woebegone, waiting for the next spasm. During one of these pauses he was ambushed by sleep.
'Ralph! You been making a noise again. Do be quiet, Ralph-because.'
Ralph heaved over among the leaves. He had reason to be thankful that his dream was broken, for the bus had been nearer and more distinct.
'Why-because?'
'Be quiet-and listen.'
Ralph lay down carefully, to the accompaniment of a long sigh from the leaves. Eric moaned something and then lay still. The darkness, save for the useless oblong of stars, was blanket-thick.
'I can't hear anything.'
'There's something moving outside.'
Ralph's head prickled. The sound of his blood drowned all else and then subsided.
'I still can't hear anything.'
'Listen. Listen for a long time.'
Quite clearly and emphatically, and only a yard or so away from the back of the shelter, a stick cracked. The blood roared again in Ralph's ears, confused images chased each other through his mind. A composite of these things was prowling round the shelters. He could feel Piggy's head against his shoulder and the convulsive grip of a hand.
'Ralph! Ralph!'
'Shut up and listen.'
Desperately, Ralph prayed that the beast would prefer littluns.
A voice whispered horribly outside.
'Piggy-Piggy-'
'It's come!' gasped Piggy. 'It's real!'
He clung to Ralph and reached to get his breath.
'Piggy, come outside. I want you, Piggy.'
Ralph's mouth was against Piggy's ear.
'Don't say anything.'
'Piggy-where are you, Piggy?'
Something brushed against the back of the shelter. Piggy kept still for a moment, then he had his asthma. He arched his back and crashed among the leaves with his legs. Ralph rolled away from him.
Then there was a vicious snarling in the mouth of the shelter and the plunge and thump of living things. Someone tripped over Ralph and Piggy's corner became a complication of snarls and crashes and flying limbs. Ralph hit out; then he and what seemed like a dozen others were rolling over and over, hitting, biting, scratching. He was torn and jolted, found fingers in his mouth and bit them. A fist withdrew and came back like a piston, so that the whole shelter exploded into light. Ralph twisted sideways on top of a writhing body and felt hot breath on his cheek. He began to pound the mouth below him, using his clenched fist as a hammer; he hit with more and more passionate hysteria as the face became slippery. A knee jerked up between his legs and he fell sideways, busying himself with his pain, and the fight rolled over him. Then the shelter collapsed with smothering finality; and the anonymous shapes fought their way out and through. Dark figures drew themselves out of the wreckage and flitted away, till the screams of the littluns and Piggy's gasps were once more audible.
Ralph called out in a quavering voice.
'All you littluns, go to sleep. We've had a fight with the others. Now go to sleep.'
Samneric came close and peered at Ralph.
'Are you two all right?'
'I think so-'
'-I got busted.'
'So did I. How's Piggy?'
They hauled Piggy clear of the wreckage and leaned him against a tree. The night was cool and purged of immediate terror. Piggy's breathing was a little easier.
'Did you get hurt, Piggy?'
'Not much.'
'That was Jack and his hunters,' said Ralph bitterly. 'Why can't they leave us alone?'
'We gave them something to think about,' said Sam. Honesty compelled him to go on. 'At least you did. I got mixed up with myself in a corner.'
'I gave one of 'em what for,' said Ralph, 'I smashed him up all right. He won't want to come and fight us again in a hurry.'
'So did I,' said Eric. 'When I woke up one was kicking me in the face. I got an awful bloody face, I think, Ralph. But I did him in the end.'
'What did you do?'
'I got my knee up,' said Eric with simple pride, 'and I hit him with it in the pills. You should have heard him holler! He won't come back in a hurry either. So we didn't do too badly.'
Ralph moved suddenly in the dark; but then he heard Eric working his mouth.
'What's the matter?'
'Jus' a tooth loose.'
Piggy drew up his legs.
'You all right, Piggy?'
'I thought they wanted the conch.'
Ralph trotted down the pale beach and jumped on to the platform. The conch still glimmered by the chief's seat. He gazed for a moment or two, then went back to Piggy.
'They didn't take the conch.'
'I know. They didn't come for the conch. They came for something else. Ralph-what am I going to do?'
Far off along the bowstave of beach, three figures trotted toward the Castle Rock. They kept away from the forest and down by the water. Occasionally they sang softly; occasionally they turned cartwheels down by the moving streak of phosphorescence. The chief led then, trotting steadily, exulting in his achievement. He was a chief now in truth; and he made stabbing motions with his spear. From his left hand dangled Piggy's broken glasses.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Castle Rock
