The meeting called by Ralph in Chapter 5, pages 114 to 116 (in my copy) was not essentially about the beast, as Ralph remarked:
“We need an assembly. Not for fun. Not for laughing and falling off the log ... not for making jokes, or ... for cleverness. Not for these things. But to put things straight.”
Ralph was frustrated about a number of things which had been happening and not happening on the island. He felt that it was imperative that these issues be addressed so that they could be resolved. He feared that if something was not done soon, things would run out of control and that they would face a complete breakdown.
Ralph expressed concern about fresh water not being made available regularly, even though it had been agreed that water would be fetched from 'the pool where the waterfall is.' Now everyone was drinking from the river. He also told the assembly about the lack of work being put into building proper shelters. Once the first one had been built, the others started losing interest, until only he and Simon built the last one which was not secure.
He furthermore mentioned that the boys had not stuck to the agreement of where they should relieve themselves. They were using everywhere, especially the little ones. Ralph, amidst sniggers and laughter, expressed his extreme displeasure at this untidy state of affairs. He then vented his sentiments about the fire not being tended properly, and said:
“The fire is the most important thing on the island. How can we ever be rescued except by luck, if we don’t keep a fire going? Is a fire too much for us to make?”
Ralph expressly targeted the hunters in this regard, stating:
“You hunters! You can laugh! But I tell you the smoke is more important than the pig, however often you kill one. Do all of you see?” He spread his arms wide and turned to the whole triangle. “We’ve got to make smoke up there—or die.”
Ralph stated that they had nearly set the entire island on fire. He asserted the following:
“So remember. The rocks for a lavatory. Keep the fire going and smoke showing as a signal. Don’t take fire from the mountain. Take your food up there.”
At this point, Jack tried to get to the conch but Ralph refused to hand it over and said that he had one other matter to mention, saying:
“Then the last thing. This is what people can talk about.” He waited till the platform was very still. “Things are breaking up. I don’t understand why. We began well; we were happy. And then—” He moved the conch gently, looking beyond them at nothing, remembering the beastie, the snake, the fire, the talk of fear. “Then people started getting frightened.”
A murmur, almost a moan, rose and passed away. Jack had stopped whittling. Ralph went on, abruptly. “But that’s littluns’ talk. We’ll get that straight. So the last part, the bit we can all talk about, is kind of deciding on the fear.” The hair was creeping into his eyes again. “We’ve got to talk about this fear and decide there’s nothing in it. I’m frightened myself, sometimes; only that’s nonsense! Like bogies. Then, when we’ve decided, we can start again and be careful about things like the fire.” A picture of three boys walking along the bright beach flitted through his mind. “And be happy.”
It was only at that point that Ralph spoke about the beast. It is evident from what he said that he was greatly concerned about the boys' fear. His sole desire was for them all to be happy and not create unnecessary worry and panic by talking about a non-existent and imaginary threat.
It is unfortunate that Ralph's assurances and Jack's statement about not having seen a beast on the island, did not resolve the matter entirely. The assembly developed into a discussion and then an argument about whether the beast really exists. In the end, there was a general desire expressed by the boys that they wished that there were adults around so that they could feel safe.
Finally, it was one of the littluns' actions that made it pertinently clear that the boys were still terribly afraid.
A thin wail out of the darkness chilled them and set them grabbing for each other. Then the wail rose, remote and unearthly, and turned to an inarticulate gibbering. Percival Wemys Madison, of the Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, lying in the long grass, was living through circumstances in which the incantation of his address was powerless to help him
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