Sunday, 7 January 2007

From "The Inheritors."

By William Golding.

The new people were flitting to and fro. There was anger and fear. "Liku!" The stag was swaying violently in the dim light. Fa was tugging at Lok and muttering at him. The people were coming with sticks, bent and straight. "Quickly!" A man was beating savagely at the bush to the right. Lok swung back his arm. "The food is for Liku!" He hurled it into the clearing. The lump fell by the stag's feet.

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