midday
I had some fever on me , I think , and I hated this lush yet frigid tableland , where all the winds on earth lay in wait for one 's marrow . Lawson was , as usual , in great spirits . We were not hunting , but shifting our hunting-ground , so all morning we travelled fast to the north along the rim of the uplands . At midday it cleared , and the afternoon was a pageant of pure colour . The wind sank to a low breeze ; the sun lit the infinite green spaces , and kindled the wet forest to a jewelled coronal . Lawson gaspingly admired it all , as he cantered bareheaded up a bracken-clad slope . `` God 's country , '' he said twenty times .