登陆注册
10449600000003

第3章 Fire on the Mountain

By the time Ralph finished blowing the conch the platform was crowded. There were differences between this meeting and the one held in the morning. The afternoon sun slanted in from the other side of the platform and most of the children, feeling too late the smart of sunburn, had put their clothes on. The choir, noticeably less of a group, had discarded their cloaks.

Ralph sat on a fallen trunk, his left side to the sun. On his right were most of the choir; on his left the larger boys who had known each other before the evacuation; before him small children squatted in the grass.

Silence now. Ralph lifted the cream and pink shell to his knees and a sudden breeze scattered light over the platform. He was uncertain whether to stand up or remain sitting. He looked sideways to his left, towards the bathing-pool. Piggy was sitting near but giving no help.

Ralph cleared his throat.

'Well then.'

All at once he found he could talk fluently and explain what he had to say. He passed a hand through his fair hair and spoke.

'We're on an island. We've been on the mountain-top and seen water all round. We saw no houses, no smoke, no footprints, no boats, no people. We're on an uninhabited island with no other people on it.'

Jack broke in.

'All the same you need an army—for hunting. Hunting pigs—'

'Yes. There are pigs on the island.'

All three of them tried to convey the sense of the pink live thing struggling in the creepers.

'We saw—'

'Squealing—'

'It broke away—'

'Before I could kill it—but—next time!'

Jack slammed his knife into a trunk and looked round challengingly.

The meeting settled down again.

'So you see,' said Ralph, 'we need hunters to get us meat. And another thing.'

He lifted the shell on his knees and looked round the sun-slashed faces.

'There aren't any grown-ups. We shall have to look after ourselves.'

The meeting hummed and was silent.

'And another thing. We can't have everybody talking at once. We'll have to have 'Hands up' like at school.'

He held the conch before his face and glanced round the mouth.

'Then I'll give him the conch.'

'Conch?'

'That's what this shell's called. I'll give the conch to the next person to speak. He can hold it when he's speaking.'

'But—'

'Look—'

'And he won't be interrupted. Except by me.'

Jack was on his feet.

'We'll have rules!' he cried excitedly. 'Lots of rules! Then when anyone breaks 'em—'

'Whee-oh!'

'Wacco!'

'Bong!'

'Doink!'

Ralph felt the conch lifted from his lap. Then Piggy was standing cradling the great cream shell and the shouting died down. Jack, left on his feet, looked uncertainly at Ralph who smiled and patted the log. Jack sat down. Piggy took off his glasses and blinked at the assembly while he wiped them on his shirt.

'You're hindering Ralph. You're not letting him get to the most important thing.'

He paused effectively.

'Who knows we're here? Eh?'

'They knew at the airport.'

'The man with a trumpet-thing—'

'My dad.'

Piggy put on his glasses.

'Nobody knows where we are,' said Piggy. He was paler than before and breathless. 'Perhaps they knew where we was going to; and perhaps not. But they don't know where we are 'cos we never got there.' He gaped at them for a moment, then swayed and sat down. Ralph took the conch from his hands.

'That's what I was going to say,' he went on, 'when you all, all….' He gazed at their intent faces. 'The plane was shot down in flames. Nobody knows where we are. We may be here a long time.'

The silence was so complete that they could hear the fetch and miss of Piggy's breathing. The sun slanted in and lay golden over half the platform. The breezes that on the lagoon had chased their tails like kittens were finding their way across the platform and into the forest. Ralph pushed back the tangle of fair hair that hung on his forehead.

'So we may be here a long time.'

Nobody said anything. He grinned suddenly.

'But this is a good island. We—Jack, Simon and me—we climbed the mountain. It's wizard. There's food and drink, and—'

'Rocks—'

'Blue flowers—'

Piggy, partly recovered, pointed to the conch in Ralph's hands, and Jack and Simon fell silent. Ralph went on.

'While we're waiting we can have a good time on this island.'

He gesticulated widely.

'It's like in a book.'

At once there was a clamour.

'Treasure Island—'

'Swallows and Amazons—'

'Coral Island—'

Ralph waved the conch.

'This is our island. It's a good island. Until the grown-ups come to fetch us we'll have fun.'

Jack held out his hand for the conch.

'There's pigs,' he said. 'There's food; and bathing-water in that little stream along there—and everything. Didn't anyone find anything else?'

He handed the conch back to Ralph and sat down. Apparently no one had found anything.

The older boys first noticed the child when he resisted. There was a group of little boys urging him forward and he did not want to go. He was a shrimp of a boy, about six years old, and one side of his face was blotted out by a mulberry-coloured birthmark. He stood now, warped out of the perpendicular by the fierce light of publicity, and he bored into the coarse grass with one toe. He was muttering and about to cry.

The other little boys, whispering but serious, pushed him towards Ralph.

'All right,' said Ralph, 'come on then.'

The small boy looked round in panic.

'Speak up!'

The small boy held out his hands for the conch and the assembly shouted with laughter; at once he snatched back his hands and started to cry.

'Let him have the conch!' shouted Piggy. 'Let him have it!'

At last Ralph induced him to hold the shell but by then the blow of laughter had taken away the child's voice. Piggy knelt by him, one hand on the great shell, listening and interpreting to the assembly.

'He wants to know what you're going to do about the snake-thing.'

Ralph laughed, and the other boys laughed with him. The small boy twisted further into himself.

'Tell us about the snake-thing.'

'Now he says it was a beastie.'

'Beastie?'

'A snake-thing. Ever so big. He saw it.'

'Where?'

'In the woods.'

Either the wandering breezes or perhaps the decline of the sun allowed a little coolness to lie under the trees. The boys felt it and stirred restlessly.

'You couldn't have a beastie, a snake-thing, on an island this size,' Ralph explained kindly. 'You only get them in big countries, like Africa, or India.'

Murmur; and the grave nodding of heads.

'He says the beastie came in the dark.'

'Then he couldn't see it!'

Laughter and cheers.

'Did you hear that? Says he saw the thing in the dark—'

'He still says he saw the beastie. It came and went away again an' came back and wanted to eat him—'

'He was dreaming.'

Laughing, Ralph looked for confirmation round the ring of faces. The older boys agreed; but here and there among the little ones was the dubiety that required more than rational assurance.

'He must have had a nightmare. Stumbling about among all those creepers.'

More grave nodding; they knew about nightmares.

'He says he saw the beastie, the snake-thing, and will it come back to-night?'

'But there isn't a beastie!'

'He says in the morning it turned into them things like ropes in the trees and hung in the branches. He says will it come back to-night?'

'But there isn't a beastie!'

There was no laughter at all now and more grave watching. Ralph pushed both hands through his hair and looked at the little boy in mixed amusement and exasperation.

Jack seized the conch.

'Ralph's right of course. There isn't a snake-thing. But if there was a snake we'd hunt it and kill it. We're going to hunt pigs and get meat for everybody. And we'll look for the snake too—'

'But there isn't a snake!'

'We'll make sure when we go hunting.'

Ralph was annoyed and, for the moment, defeated. He felt himself facing something ungraspable. The eyes that looked so intently at him were without humour.

'But there isn't a beast!'

Something he had not known was there rose in him and compelled him to make the point, loudly and again.

'But I tell you there isn't a beast!'

The assembly was silent.

Ralph lifted the conch again and his good humour came back as he thought of what he had to say next.

'Now we come to the most important thing. I've been thinking. I was thinking while we were climbing the mountain.' He flashed a conspiratorial grin at the other two. 'And on the beach just now. This is what I thought. We want to have fun. And we want to be rescued.'

The passionate noise of agreement from the assembly hit him like a wave and he lost his thread. He thought again.

'We want to be rescued; and of course we shall be rescued.'

Voices babbled. The simple statement, unbacked by any proof but the weight of Ralph's new authority, brought light and happiness. He had to wave the conch before he could make them hear him.

'My father's in the Navy. He said there aren't any unknown islands left. He says the Queen has a big room full of maps and all the islands in the world are drawn there. So the Queen's got a picture of this island.'

Again came the sounds of cheerfulness and better heart.

'And sooner or later a ship will put in here. It might even be daddy's ship. So you see, sooner or later, we shall be rescued.'

He paused, with the point made. The assembly was lifted towards safety by his words. They liked and now respected him. Spontaneously they began to clap and presently the platform was loud with applause. Ralph flushed, looking sideways at Piggy's open admiration, and then the other way at Jack who was smirking and showing that he too knew how to clap.

Ralph waved the conch.

'Shut up! Wait! Listen!'

He went on in the silence, borne on his triumph.

'There's another thing. We can help them to find us. If a ship comes near the island they may not notice us. So we must make smoke on top of the mountain. We must make a fire.'

'A fire! Make a fire!'

At once half the boys were on their feet. Jack clamoured among them, the conch forgotten.

'Come on! Follow me!'

The space under the palm trees was full of noise and movement. Ralph was on his feet too, shouting for quiet, but no one heard him. All at once the crowd swayed towards the island and were gone—following Jack. Even the tiny children went and did their best among the leaves and broken branches. Ralph was left, holding the conch, with no one but Piggy.

Piggy's breathing was quite restored.

'Like kids!' he said scornfully. 'Acting like a crowd of kids!'

Ralph looked at him doubtfully and laid the conch on the tree trunk.

'I bet it's gone tea-time,' said Piggy. 'What do you think they're going to do on that mountain?'

He caressed the shell respectfully, then stopped and looked up.

'Ralph! Hey! Where are you going?'

Ralph was already clambering over the first smashed swathes of the scar. A long way ahead of him was crashing and laughter. Piggy watched him in disgust.

'Like a crowd of kids—'

He sighed, bent, and laced up his shoes. The noise of the errant assembly faded up the mountain. Then, with the martyred expression of a parent who has to keep up with the senseless ebullience of the children, he picked up the conch, turned towards the forest, and began to pick his way over the tumbled scar.

*

Below the other side of the mountain-top was a platform of forest. Once more Ralph found himself making the cupping gesture.

'Down there we could get as much wood as we want.'

Jack nodded and pulled at his underlip. Starting perhaps a hundred feet below them on the steeper side of the mountain, the patch might have been designed expressly for fuel. Trees, forced by the damp heat, found too little soil for full growth, fell early and decayed: creepers cradled them, and new saplings searched a way up.

Jack turned to the choir, who stood ready. Their black caps of maintenance were slid over one ear like berets.

'We'll build a pile. Come on.'

They found the likeliest path down and began tugging at the dead wood. And the small boys who had reached the top came sliding too till everyone but Piggy was busy. Most of the wood was so rotten that when they pulled it broke up into a shower of fragments and woodlice and decay; but some trunks came out in one piece. The twins, Sam 'n' Eric, were the first to get a likely log but they could do nothing till Ralph, Jack, Simon, Roger and Maurice found room for a hand-hold. Then they inched the grotesque dead thing up the rock and toppled it over on top. Each party of boys added a quota, less or more, and the pile grew. At the return Ralph found himself alone on a limb with Jack and they grinned at each other, sharing this burden. Once more, amid the breeze, the shouting, the slanting sunlight on the high mountain, was shed that glamour, that strange invisible light of friendship, adventure and content.

'Almost too heavy.'

Jack grinned back.

'Not for the two of us.'

Together, joined in effort by the burden, they staggered up the last steep of the mountain. Together, they chanted. One! Two! Three! and crashed the log on to the great pile. Then they stepped back, laughing with triumphant pleasure, so that immediately Ralph had to stand on his head. Below them, boys were still labouring, though some of the small ones had lost interest and were searching this new forest for fruit. Now the twins, with unsuspected intelligence, came up the mountain with armfuls of dried leaves and dumped them against the pile. One by one, as they sensed that the pile was complete the boys stopped going back for more and stood, with the pink, shattered top of the mountain around them. Breath came even by now, and sweat dried.

Ralph and Jack looked at each other while society paused about them. The shameful knowledge grew in them and they did not know how to begin confession.

Ralph spoke first, crimson in the face.

'Will you?'

He cleared his throat and went on.

'Will you light the fire?'

Now the absurd situation was open, Jack blushed too. He began to mutter vaguely.

'You rub two sticks. You rub—'

He glanced at Ralph, who blurted out the last confession of incompetence.

'Has anyone got any matches?'

'You make a bow and spin the arrow,' said Roger. He rubbed his hands in mime. 'Psss. Psss.'

A little air was moving over the mountain. Piggy came with it, in shorts and shirt, labouring cautiously out of the forest with the evening sunlight gleaming from his glasses. He held the conch under his arm.

Ralph shouted at him.

'Piggy! Have you got any matches?'

The other boys took up the cry till the mountain rang. Piggy shook his head and came to the pile.

'My! You've made a big heap, haven't you?'

Jack pointed suddenly.

'His specs—use them as burning glasses!'

Piggy was surrounded before he could back away.

'Here—Let me go!' His voice rose to a shriek of terror as Jack snatched the glasses off his face. 'Mind out! Give 'em back! I can hardly see! You'll break the conch!'

Ralph elbowed him to one side and knelt by the pile.

'Stand out of the light.'

There was pushing and pulling and officious cries. Ralph moved the lenses back and forth, this way and that, till a glossy white image of the declining sun lay on a piece of rotten wood. Almost at once a thin trickle of smoke rose up and made him cough. Jack knelt too and blew gently, so that the smoke drifted away, thickening, and a tiny flame appeared. The flame, nearly invisible at first in that bright sunlight, enveloped a small twig, grew, was enriched with colour and reached up to a branch which exploded with a sharp crack. The flame flapped higher and the boys broke into a cheer.

'My specs!' howled Piggy. 'Give me my specs!'

Ralph stood away from the pile and put the glasses into Piggy's groping hands. His voice subsided to a mutter.

'Jus' blurs, that's all. Hardly see my hand—'

The boys were dancing. The pile was so rotten, and now so tinder-dry, that whole limbs yielded passionately to the yellow flames that poured upwards and shook a great beard of flame twenty feet in the air. For yards round the fire the heat was like a blow, and the breeze was a river of sparks. Trunks crumbled to white dust.

Ralph shouted.

'More wood! All of you get more wood!'

Life became a race with the fire and the boys scattered through the upper forest. To keep a clean flag of flame flying on the mountain was the immediate end and no one looked further. Even the smallest boys, unless fruit claimed them, brought little pieces of wood and threw them in. The air moved a little faster and became a light wind, so that leeward and windward side were clearly differentiated. On one side the air was cool, but on the other the fire thrust out a savage arm of heat that crinkled hair on the instant. Boys who felt the evening wind on their damp faces paused to enjoy the freshness of it and then found they were exhausted. They flung themselves down in the shadows that lay among the shattered rocks. The beard of flame diminished quickly; then the pile fell inwards with a soft, cindery sound, and sent a great tree of sparks upwards that leaned away and drifted downwind. The boys lay, panting like dogs.

Ralph raised his head off his forearms.

'That was no good.'

Roger spat efficiently into the hot dust.

'What d'you mean?'

'There wasn't any smoke. Only flame.'

Piggy had settled himself in a coign between two rocks, and sat with the conch on his knees.

'We haven't made a fire,' he said, 'what's any use. We couldn't keep a fire like that going, not if we tried.'

'A fat lot you tried,' said Jack contemptuously. 'You just sat.'

'We used his specs,' said Simon, smearing a black cheek with his forearm. 'He helped that way.'

'I got the conch,' said Piggy indignantly. 'You let me speak!'

'The conch doesn't count on top of the mountain,' said Jack, 'so you shut up.'

'I got the conch in my hand.'

'Put on green branches,' said Maurice. 'That's the best way to make smoke.'

'I got the conch—'

Jack turned fiercely.

'You shut up!'

Piggy wilted. Ralph took the conch from him and looked round the circle of boys.

'We've got to have special people for looking after the fire. Any day there may be a ship out there'—he waved his arm at the taut wire of the horizon—'and if we have a signal going they'll come and take us off. And another thing. We ought to have more rules. Where the conch is, that's a meeting. The same up here as down there.'

They assented. Piggy opened his mouth to speak, caught Jack's eye and shut it again. Jack held out his hands for the conch and stood up, holding the delicate thing carefully in his sooty hands.

'I agree with Ralph. We've got to have rules and obey them. After all, we're not savages. We're English; and the English are best at everything. So we've got to do the right things.'

He turned to Ralph.

'Ralph—I'll split up the choir—my hunters, that is—into groups, and we'll be responsible for keeping the fire going—'

This generosity brought a spatter of applause from the boys, so that Jack grinned at them, then waved the conch for silence.

'We'll let the fire burn out now. Who would see smoke at night-time anyway? And we can start the fire again whenever we like. Altos—you can keep the fire going this week; and trebles the next—'

The assembly assented gravely.

'And we'll be responsible for keeping a lookout too. If we see a ship out there'—they followed the direction of his bony arm with their eyes—'we'll put green branches on. Then there'll be more smoke.'

They gazed intently at the dense blue of the horizon, as if a little silhouette might appear there at any moment.

The sun in the west was a drop of burning gold that slid nearer and nearer the sill of the world. All at once they were aware of the evening as the end of light and warmth.

Roger took the conch and looked round at them gloomily.

'I've been watching the sea. There hasn't been the trace of a ship. Perhaps we'll never be rescued.'

A murmur rose and swept away. Ralph took back the conch.

'I said before we'll be rescued sometime. We've just got to wait; that's all.'

Daring, indignant, Piggy took the conch.

'That's what I said! I said about our meetings and things and then you said shut up—'

His voice lifted into the whine of virtuous recrimination. They stirred and began to shout him down.

'You said you wanted a small fire and you been and built a pile like a hayrick. If I say anything,' cried Piggy, with bitter realism, 'you say shut up; but if Jack or Maurice or Simon—'

He paused in the tumult, standing, looking beyond them and down the unfriendly side of the mountain to the great patch where they had found dead wood. Then he laughed so strangely that they were hushed, looking at the flash of his spectacles in astonishment. They followed his gaze to find the sour joke.

'You got your small fire all right.'

Smoke was rising here and there among the creepers that festooned the dead or dying trees. As they watched, a flash of fire appeared at the root of one wisp, and then the smoke thickened. Small flames stirred at the bole of a tree and crawled away through leaves and brushwood, dividing and increasing. One patch touched a tree trunk and scrambled up like a bright squirrel. The smoke increased, sifted, rolled outwards. The squirrel leapt on the wings of the wind and clung to another standing tree, eating downwards. Beneath the dark canopy of leaves and smoke the fire laid hold on the forest and began to gnaw. Acres of black and yellow smoke rolled steadily towards the sea. At the sight of the flames and the irresistible course of the fire, the boys broke into shrill, excited cheering. The flames, as though they were a kind of wild life, crept as a jaguar creeps on its belly towards a line of birch-like saplings that fledged an outcrop of the pink rock. They flapped at the first of the trees, and the branches grew a brief foliage of fire. The heart of flame leapt nimbly across the gap between the trees and then went swinging and flaring along the whole row of them. Beneath the capering boys a quarter of a mile square of forest was savage with smoke and flame. The separate noises of the fire merged into a drum-roll that seemed to shake the mountain.

'You got your small fire all right.'

Startled, Ralph realized that the boys were falling still and silent, feeling the beginnings of awe at the power set free below them. The knowledge and the awe made him savage.

'Oh, shut up!'

'I got the conch,' said Piggy, in a hurt voice. 'I got a right to speak.'

They looked at him with eyes that lacked interest in what they saw, and cocked ears at the drum-roll of the fire. Piggy glanced nervously into hell and cradled the conch.

'We got to let that burn out now. And that was our firewood.'

He licked his lips.

'There ain't nothing we can do. We ought to be more careful. I'm scared—'

Jack dragged his eyes away from the fire.

'You're always scared. Yah—Fatty!'

'I got the conch,' said Piggy bleakly. He turned to Ralph. 'I got the conch, ain't I, Ralph?

Unwillingly Ralph turned away from the splendid, awful sight.

'What's that?'

'The conch. I got a right to speak.'

The twins giggled together.

'We wanted smoke—'

'Now look—'

A pall stretched for miles away from the island. All the boys except Piggy started to giggle; presently they were shrieking with laughter.

Piggy lost his temper.

'I got the conch! Just you listen! The first thing we ought to have made was shelters down there by the beach. It wasn't half cold down there in the night. But the first time Ralph says "fire" you goes howling and screaming up this here mountain. Like a pack of kids!'

By now they were listening to the tirade.

'How can you expect to be rescued if you don't put first things first and act proper?'

He took off his glasses and made as if to put down the conch; but the sudden motion towards it of most of the older boys changed his mind. He tucked the shell under his arm, and crouched back on a rock.

'Then when you get here you build a bonfire that isn't no use. Now you been and set the whole island on fire. Won't we look funny if the whole island burns up? Cooked fruit, that's what we'll have to eat, and roast pork. And that's nothing to laugh at! You said Ralph was chief and you don't give him time to think. Then when he says something you rush off, like, like—'

He paused for breath, and the fire growled at them.

'And that's not all. Them kids. The little 'uns. Who took any notice of 'em? Who knows how many we got?'

Ralph took a sudden step forward.

'I told you to. I told you to get a list of names!'

'How could I,' cried Piggy indignantly, 'all by myself? They waited for two minutes, then they fell in the sea; they went into the forest; they just scattered everywhere. How was I to know which was which?'

Ralph licked his pale lips.

'Then you don't know how many of us there ought to be?'

'How could I with them little 'uns running round like insects? Then when you three came back, as soon as you said make a fire, they all ran away, and I never had a chance—'

'That's enough!' said Ralph sharply, and snatched back the conch. 'If you didn't you didn't.'

'—then you come up here an' pinch my specs—'

Jack turned on him.

'You shut up!'

'—and them little 'uns was wandering about down there where the fire is. How d'you know they aren't still there?'

Piggy stood up and pointed to the smoke and flames. A murmur rose among the boys and died away. Something strange was happening to Piggy, for he was gasping for breath.

'That little 'un—' gasped Piggy—'him with the mark on his face, I don't see him. Where is he now?'

The crowd was as silent as death.

'Him that talked about the snakes. He was down there—'

A tree exploded in the fire like a bomb. Tall swathes of creepers rose for a moment into view, agonized, and went down again. The little boys screamed at them.

'Snakes! Snakes! Look at the snakes!'

In the west, and unheeded, the sun lay only an inch or two above the sea. Their faces were lit redly from beneath. Piggy fell against a rock and clutched it with both hands.

'That little 'un had a mark on his—face—where is—he now? I tell you I don't see him.'

The boys looked at each other fearfully, unbelieving.

'—where is he now?'

Ralph muttered the reply as if in shame.

'Perhaps he went back to the, the—'

Beneath them, on the unfriendly side of the mountain, the drum-roll continued.

同类推荐
  • Fuzzy
  • Death by Rock 'n' Roll

    Death by Rock 'n' Roll

    (A 90-page True Crime Short with photographs) On April 1, 1984, Marvin Gaye--one of the world's most beloved singers--was gunned down by his own father. A generation later, fans still puzzle over how it could be that a man who crooned about peace, love, and understanding could possibly meet with such a violent end--and from his own flesh and blood. Yet the history of popular music is written in blood.
  • Evita, First Lady

    Evita, First Lady

    Eva Peron was a star and a legend during her lifetime, one of the most alluring women of the twentieth century. Through the hit Broadway musical Evita by Andrew Lloyd Webber, her story became famous, and with the release of the film starring Madonna as Eva Peron, her life became a media obsession once again. Whore and feminist, tyrant and saint, Evita was the beautiful and legendary woman who rose up from poverty to become the hypnotically powerful first lady of Argentina. To millions of poor people she was a savior; to her enemies she was a monstrous dictator. In this riveting biography, John Barnes explores the astonishing paradox of this champion of the poor who attacked the rich and, in the process, made herself the wealthiest woman in the world.
  • Craved (Book #10 in the Vampire Journals)
  • Devil and the Bluebird

    Devil and the Bluebird

    Blue Riley has wrestled with her own demons ever since the loss of her mother to cancer. But when she encounters a beautiful devil at her town crossroads, it's her runaway sister's soul she fights to save. The devil steals Blue's voice—inherited from her musically gifted mother—in exchange for a single shot at finding Cass. Armed with her mother's guitar, a knapsack of cherished mementos, and a pair of magical boots, Blue journeys west in search of her sister. When the devil changes the terms of their deal, Blue must reevaluate her understanding of good and evil and open herself up to finding family in unexpected wkkk.net Devil and the Bluebird, Jennifer Mason-Black delivers a captivating depiction of loss and hope.
热门推荐
  • 富豪必备的十大素质

    富豪必备的十大素质

    本书通过研究中外富豪成功的经历,总结出富豪必备的十大素质。分别是:敢于梦想;丰富的想象力与远见;发现机会,把握机会;多谋善断;强烈的冒险天性;果敢坚毅,知难而进;诚信为本;合作精神与团了组建能力;财商;勇于创新。
  • 神魄榜

    神魄榜

    星魄大陆每个人都有一种名为神魄的精神物质,而这个大陆所有强大的职业都需要神魄发出的特殊能量为基础。
  • 2013民生散文选本

    2013民生散文选本

    《2013民生散文选本》精选了2013年发表在全国 各地报纸、杂志等媒体上的优秀散文,作者中多为当 代中国文坛著名作家。这些文字优美清新,或温婉圆 润,娓娓道来,或老辣独到,鞭辟入里,无不透露出 作者深厚的文字功底,以及对民生,对亲情、乡情等 的挚爱。
  • 爱情从天而降

    爱情从天而降

    (完结)“杨子峰,不管你对我有多冷,我唯一爱的人就是你。”萧冉面对冷冰冰的总裁杨子峰鼓起勇气说道。没想到换来的却是沉默,他的冷漠让萧冉心灰意冷。直到有一天,当萧冉得知他遭到女友背叛喝的烂醉如泥之后,萧冉笑道,“我终于能够正式的靠近你了。”日久生情,当有一天杨子峰彻彻底底的爱上她之后,命运的突变让两个人再次跌入深渊,两个真心相爱的人最后能否跨越阻碍呢……【爱情系列三部曲第一部】
  • 糖尿病食疗谱(美食与保健)

    糖尿病食疗谱(美食与保健)

    民以食为天。我们一日三餐的饭菜不仅关系我们的生命,更关系我们的健康。因此,我们不但要吃饱吃好,还要吃出营养、吃出健康、吃出品味,吃出高水平的生活质量。
  • 后来,你都如何回忆我

    后来,你都如何回忆我

    那时迷离《后来,你都如何回忆我》你有暗恋过一个人吗?24岁那年,我飞蛾扑火般地暗恋上一个男人,一见钟情的那种。可是我不好意思说,不是因为脸皮薄,而是因为他是我的学生家长,而我是一名幼师。我们离暧昧那么近,却离爱情那么远。谁愿意爱得这么受伤,还要忍受世人唾弃鄙夷的目光?我都快被耽误成老姑娘了,我想还是放手吧。这时,有个神秘的女人约见了我。我知道了一些秘密,关于他的。
  • 抽刀断水流

    抽刀断水流

    云中藏剑,出鞘一刀,侠之大者,为国为民。
  • 上清黄气阳精三道愿行经·藏月隐日经

    上清黄气阳精三道愿行经·藏月隐日经

    本书为公版书,为不受著作权法限制的作家、艺术家及其它人士发布的作品,供广大读者阅读交流。汇聚授权电子版权。
  • 唐朝地主爷

    唐朝地主爷

    徐清是一名理科生,发传单中暑晕过去,竟然穿越到了大唐初年,成为一个小小的府兵,跟着扫荡土匪立了军功,朝廷赏了土地钱粮,阔宅马车,还有两个小妞作仆人!正当徐清想腐败到底,安安心心当地主的时候,居然被李渊看上,当了守门大将,而这扇门居然是——玄武门!伴君如伴虎,从此徐清的现代知识被榨的一干二净,地主也越做越阔气......
  • 太子妃升职记(全集)

    太子妃升职记(全集)

    【全网独家】雷萌神剧原著小说。为了弥补工作失误,司命星君将现代男人陈然的灵魂偷偷从地府带出,附身到“落水身亡”的南夏太子妃张芃芃身上。这天上掉下来的是馅饼还是陷阱?丈夫不喜,婆婆不爱,男人心女人身的张芃芃如何才能从“太子妃”一路顺利地升职为“太后”?这是一个“女人”在后宫的奋斗史……同时,也是一个“男人”在后宫的苦难史……痴情太子兜售真心假一赔命,好色太子妃性别错位笑料迭出……