'Got to? Who says?'
Ralph's temper blazed out.
'I say! You voted for me for chief. Didn't you hear the conch? You played a dirty trick-we'd have given you fire if you'd asked for it-'
The blood was flowing in his cheeks and the bunged-up eye throbbed.
'You could have had fire whenever you wanted. But you didn't. You came sneaking up like a thief and stole Piggy's glasses!'
'Say that again!'
'Thief! Thief!'
Piggy screamed.
'Ralph! Mind me!'
Jack made a rush and stabbed at Ralph's chest with his spear. Ralph sensed the position of the weapon from the glimpse he caught of Jack's arm and put the thrust aside with his own butt. Then he brought the end round and caught Jack a stinger across the ear. They were chest to chest, breathing fiercely, pushing and glaring.
'Who's a thief?'
'You are!'
Jack wrenched free and swung at Ralph with his spear. By common consent they were using the spears as sabers now, no longer daring the lethal points. The blow struck Ralph's spear and slid down, to fall agonizingly on his fingers. Then they were apart once more, their positions reversed, Jack toward the Castle Rock and Ralph on the outside toward the island.
Both boys were breathing very heavily.
'Come on then-'
'Come on-'
Truculently they squared up to each other but kept just out of fighting distance.
'You come on and see what you get!'
'You come on-'
Piggy clutching the ground was trying to attract Ralph's attention. Ralph moved, bent down, kept a wary eye on Jack.
'Ralph-remember what we came for. The fire. My specs.'
Ralph nodded. He relaxed his fighting muscles, stood easily and grounded the butt of his spear. Jack watched him inscrutably through his paint. Ralph glanced up at the pinnacles, then toward the group of savages.
'Listen. We've come to say this. First you've got to give back Piggy's specs. If he hasn't got them he can't see. You aren't playing the game-'
The tribe of painted savages giggled and Ralph's mind faltered. He pushed his hair up and gazed at the green and black mask before him, trying to remember what Jack looked like.
Piggy whispered.
'And the fire.'
'Oh yes. Then about the fire. I say this again. I've been saying it ever since we dropped in.'
He held out his spear and pointed at the savages. 'Your only hope is keeping a signal fire going as long as there's light to see. Then maybe a ship'll notice the smoke and come and rescue us and take us home. But without that smoke we've got to wait till some ship comes by accident. We might wait years; till we were old-'
The shivering, silvery, unreal laughter of the savages sprayed out and echoed away. A gust of rage shook Ralph. His voice cracked.
'Don't you understand, you painted fools? Sam, Eric, Piggy and me-we aren't enough. We tried to keep the fire going, but we couldn't. And then you, playing at hunting. . . .'
He pointed past them to where the trickle of smoke dispersed in the pearly air.
'Look at that! Call that a signal fire? That's a cooking fire. Now you'll eat and there'll be no smoke. Don't you understand? There may be a ship out there-'
He paused, defeated by the silence and the painted anonymity of the group guarding the entry. Jack opened a pink mouth and addressed Samneric, who were between him and his tribe.
'You two. Get back.'
No one answered him. The twins, puzzled, looked at each other; while Piggy, reassured by the cessation of violence, stood up carefully. Jack glanced back at Ralph and then at the twins.
'Grab them!'
No one moved. Jack shouted angrily.
'I said 'grab them'!'
The painted group moved round Samneric nervously and unhandily. Once more the silvery laughter scattered.
Samneric protested out of the heart of civilization.
'Oh, I say!'
'-honestly!'
Their spears were taken from them.
'Tie them up!'
Ralph cried out hopelessly against the black and green mask.
'Jack!'
'Go on. Tie them.'
Now the painted group felt the otherness of Samneric, felt the power in their own hands. They felled the twins clumsily and excitedly. Jack was inspired. He knew that Ralph would attempt a rescue. He struck in a humming circle behind him and Ralph only just parried the blow. Beyond them the tribe and the twins were a loud and writhing heap. Piggy crouched again. Then the twins lay, astonished, and the tribe stood round them. Jack turned to Ralph and spoke between his teeth.
'See? They do what I want.'
There was silence again. The twins lay, inexpertly tied up, and the tribe watched Ralph to see what he would do. He numbered them through his fringe, glimpsed the ineffectual smoke.
His temper broke. He screamed at Jack.
'You're a beast and a swine and a bloody, bloody thief!'
He charged.
Jack, knowing this was the crisis, charged too. They met with a jolt and bounced apart. Jack swung with his fist at Ralph and caught him on the ear. Ralph hit Jack in the stomach and made him grunt. Then they were facing each other again, panting and furious, but unnerved by each other's ferocity. They became aware of the noise that was the background to this fight, the steady shrill cheering of the tribe behind them.
Piggy's voice penetrated to Ralph.
'Let me speak.'
He was standing in the dust of the fight, and as the tribe saw his intention the shrill cheer changed to a steady booing.
Piggy held up the conch and the booing sagged a little, then came up again to strength.
'I got the conch!'
He shouted.
'I tell you, I got the conch!'
Surprisingly, there was silence now; the tribe were curious to hear what amusing thing he might have to say.
Silence and pause; but in the silence a curious air-noise, close by Ralph's head. He gave it half his attention-and there it was again; a faint 'Zup!' Someone was throwing stones: Roger was dropping them, his one hand still on the lever. Below him, Ralph was a shock of hair and Piggy a bag of fat.
'I got this to say. You're acting like a crowd of kids.' The booing rose and died again as Piggy lifted the white, magic shell.
'Which is better-to be a pack of painted Indians like you are, or to be sensible like Ralph is?'
