The hunters sat, stuffing themselves with this easy meal, trying to convince themselves that they got sufficient kick out of bananas and that other olive-grey, jelly-like fruit. “Be sucking my thumb next-” He looked round, furtively. They were bitten down to the quick though he could not remember when he had restarted this habit nor any time when he indulged it. Then there were his nails- Ralph turned his hand over and examined them. He passed his tongue experimentally over his teeth and decided that a toothbrush would come in handy too. He would like to have a bath, a proper wallow with soap. He would like to have a pair of scissors and cut this hair-he flung the mass back-cut this filthy hair right back to half an inch. Sitting under what seemed an un-usual heat, even for this island, Ralph planned his toilet. He pulled distastefully at his grey shirt and wondered whether he might un-dertake the adventure of washing it. Sitting, Ralph was aware of the heat for the first time that day. Ralph passed a message forward to Jack and when they next came to fruit the whole party stopped and ate. The sun had swung over the vertical and the afternoon heat was closing in on the island. If you could shut your ears to the slow suck down of the sea and boil of the return, if you could forget how dun and unvisited were the ferny coverts on either side, then there was a chance that you might put the beast out of mind and dream for a while. The pig-run kept close to the jumble of rocks that lay down by the water on the other side and Ralph was content to follow Jack along it.
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