twelve to three o'clock
It was now quite dark , and it began to be cold ; in the thicket sounded the melodious notes of a nightingale . We buried ourselves in the hay and fell asleep . At the beginning of August the heat often becomes insupportable . At that season , from twelve to three o'clock , the most determined and ardent sportsman is not able to hunt , and the most devoted dog begins to ` clean his master 's spurs , ' that is , to follow at his heels , his eyes painfully blinking , and his tongue hanging out to an exaggerated length ; and in response to his master 's reproaches he humbly wags his tail and shows his confusion in his face ; but he does not run forward . I happened to be out hunting on exactly such a day . I had long been fighting against the temptation to lie down somewhere in the shade , at least for a moment ; for a long time my indefatigable dog went on running about in the bushes , though he clearly did not himself expect much good from his feverish activity . The stifling heat compelled me at last to begin to think of husbanding our energies and strength .