As Ralph walks along the beach, he thinks about how much of life is an improvisation and about how a considerable part of one’s waking life is spent watching one’s feet. Ralph is frustrated with his hair, which is now long, mangy, and always manages to fall in front of his eyes. He decides to call a meeting to attempt to bring the group back into line. Late in the evening, he blows the conch shell, and the boys gather on the beach.