noon
Hollister 's work lay almost altogether in the flat now . The cut cedar accumulating under the busy hands of six men came pouring down the chute in a daily stream . To salvage the sticks that spilled , to arrange the booms for rafting down stream , kept Hollister on the move . At noon that day Myra and Doris brought the baby and lunch in a basket and spread it on the ground on the sunny side of an alder near the chute mouth , just beyond the zone of danger from flying bolts . The day was warm enough for comfortable lounging . The boy , now grown to be a round-faced , clear-skinned mite with blue eyes like his father , lay on an outspread quilt , waving his chubby arms , staring at the mystery of the shadows cast upon him by leaf and branch above . Hollister finished his meal in silence , that reflective silence which always overtook him when he found himself one corner of this strange triangle .