He noticed, without understanding, how the flames were visible now against the dull light. Evening was come, not with calm beauty but with the threat… - William Golding

There is nothing in it of course. Just a feeling. But you can feel as if you're not hunting, but - being hunted, as if something's behind you all the time in the jungle.

There have been so many interpretations of the story that I'm not going to choose between them. Make your own choice. They contradict each other, the various choices. The only choice that really matters, the only interpretation of the story, if you want one, is your own. Not your teacher's, not your professor's, not mine, not a critic's, not some authority's. The only thing that matters is, first, the experience of being in the story, moving through it. Then any interpretation you like. If it's yours, then that's the right one, because what's in a book is not what an author thought he put into it, it's what the reader gets out of it.

"They always been making trouble, haven't they?"
The voice came near his shoulder and sounded anxious.
"We can do without 'em. We'll be happier now, won't we?"