midday
`` I could not sleep to-day , '' Jack answered . `` I do n't feel as if I could sleep until I 've seen Prather and heard his story -- my story -- Firio ! '' And he lay with eyes half closed , staring at the steel blue overhead . It was well after midday when they mounted for the remainder of the journey . The Eternal Painter was shaking out the silvery cloud-mist of his beard across a background that had a softer , kindlier , deeper blue . The shadows of the ponies and their riders and Jag Ear and his pack no longer lay under their bellies heavily , but were stretched out to one side by the angle of the sun , in cheerful , jogging fraternity . Prather and Nogales had again become only a speck .