I think I'm going to lose my mind. Nobody in this thread remembers the book. > He picked his way up the scar, passed the great rock where Ralph had climbed on

I think I'm going to lose my mind. Nobody in this thread remembers the book. > He picked his way up the scar, passed the great rock where Ralph had climbed on the first morning, then turned off to his right among the trees. He walked with an accustomed tread through the acres of fruit trees, where the least energetic could find an easy if unsatisfying meal. Flower and fruit grew together on the same tree and everywhere was the scent of ripeness and the booming of a million bees at pasture. There's more than enough fruit for everybody to eat. That's not why the boys hunt. Hunting is explicitly equated with the military; with the human urge to fight and kill. > "The choir belongs to you, of course." > "They could be the army--" > "Or hunters--" > "They could be--" > The suffusion drained away from Jack's face. Ralph waved again for silence. > "Jack's in charge of the choir. They can be--what do you want them to be?" > "Hunters." The hunters eventually start ritualistically killing the other boys in their "hunts." The ending links the boys' savagery to the savagery of WWI, when the naval officers find them. > And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy. > The officer, surrounded by these noises, was moved and a little embarrassed. He turned away to give them time to pull themselves together; and waited, allowing his eyes to rest on the trim cruiser in the distance. This is the last line in the book. Golding isn't being subtle about this.