Повелитель мух
The Sound of the Shell
Now,towardtheendoftheafternoon,themiragesweresettlingalittle.Theyfoundtheendoftheisland,quitedistinct,andnotmagickedoutofshapeorsense.Therewasajumbleoftheusualsquareness,withonegreatblocksittingoutinthelagoon.Seabirdswerenestingthere.
"Likeicing,"saidRalph,"onapinkcake."
"Weshan’tseeroundthiscorner,"saidJack,"becausethereisn’tone.Onlyaslowcurve—andyoucansee,therocksgetworse—"
Ralphshadedhiseyesandfollowedthejaggedoutlineofthecragsuptowardthemountain.Thispartofthebeachwasnearerthemountainthananyotherthattheyhadseen.
"We’lltryclimbingthemountainfromhere,"hesaid."Ishouldthinkthisistheeasiestway.There’slessofthatjunglystuff;andmorepinkrock.Comeon."
Thethreeboysbegantoscrambleup.Someunknownforcehadwrenchedandshatteredthesecubessothattheylayaskew,oftenpileddiminishinglyoneachother.Themostusualfeatureoftherockwasapinkcliffsurmountedbyaskewedblock;andthatagainsurmounted,andthatagain,tillthepinknessbecameastackofbalancedrockprojectingthroughtheloopedfantasyoftheforestcreepers.Wherethepinkcliffsroseoutofthegroundtherewereoftennarrowtrackswindingupwards.Theycouldedgealongthem,deepintheplantworld,theirfacestotherock.
"Whatmadethistrack?"
Jackpaused,wipingthesweatfromhisface.Ralphstoodbyhim,breathless.
"Men?"
