morning, noon
Why , it 's like a fiery furnace now burning on great iron bars . '' Then there was another change , for the dark-green rough fir-boughs began to be lit up overhead , and the forest looked brighter than ever . A wood of fir-trees is a puzzling place , from the fact that in a mile or two , consequent upon their regular growth , you may find hundreds , perhaps thousands , of places exactly alike -- the same-looking tall , red , scaly columns , the same distance apart , the same grey carpet of fir-needles , and the same grey rough-topped , mushroom-shaped fungi growing up and pushing the fir-needles aside to make room for them . Then too the great natural temple , with its dark column-supported roof , has a way of looking different at morning , noon , and eve ; and as different again according to the state of the weather , so that though you may be pretty familiar with the place , it is a difficult task to find your way for the second time . It was so now with Tom Blount . There was a spot in the wood for which he had aimed , and it seemed to be the easiest thing possible to go straight there ; but the trees prevented any such straight course , and after a little dodging in and out the mind refuses to bear all the changes of course and repeat them to the traveller , who gradually grows more and more confused , and if he does not hit upon the spot he seeks by accident , in all probability he has to give it up for what people call a bad job . `` Here it is at last , '' said Tom to himself , after following , as he thought , exactly the course he had taken when he chased Pete Warboys for throwing stones at the bath-chair , and coming upon a rugged portion of the fir-wood .