For some moments’ space the king could distinguish nothing, but soon he became aware of a luminousness over the mid ravine. Something palely bright was floating towards him. As the brightness came nearer he saw that it was a centre wherein innumerable bright rays met, and from which innumerable bright rays went forth in every direction.
“Take that,” the old man cried. “The rays go forth unto everything in the valley. They pass through everything unto everything. Through them thou canst touch whatsoever thou wilt.”
The king took the rays and placed them on his breast; thence they went forth, and through them he touched and knew every part of the valley. And thinking of the hut where the children lay, the king perceived through the rays that went thither that the walls were tottering, and like to fall on the children. And through his rays he knew that the children perceived this in a dull kind of way; but since in their life there was no more pleasure than pain, they did not feel it more pleasant to rise up and move than to be still and be buried.
But the king through the rays, as before through the reeds, took the pain of moving, and the children rose and came out of the hut; and soon they were with the king, running and bounding as never children leapt and ran, with ecstasy of movement and unlimited exuberance of spirit. But as they leapt and ran the king felt an increasing pain in all his limbs. Still he liked to see them in their full and joyous activity, and he wished them to cast off that dull apathy in which they lay. So all through the night he roamed about with them thinking of all the wildest things for them to do, and leading them through dance and play, every movement and activity he could think of.
At length the rising sun began to warm the air, and the king, exhausted with pain, left off bearing it for them.
After a few languid movements the children sank down on a comfortable bank into a state of absolute torpor. The king looked at them; it seemed inconceivable that they could be the same children who had been running about so merrily a few moments ago. Thus far he had received no advantage from the rays the old man had given him, except that he could touch the children more easily.
He turned wearily and looked around. His horse stood there. But instead of whinnying and running up to greet him, the faithful animal stood still, looking across the ravine.
“Perchance without my burden, and with the strength these rays may impart,” thought the king, “he might manage the leap.”
The horse was standing opposite the remains of the natural bridge over which the two had so rashly crossed the day before. The king touched the horse with his rays. As with a sudden thrust of the spur, the noble animal rushed forward and leapt madly from the fragments of the arch. His fore feet gained the opposite brink, and with a terrible struggle he raised himself on the firm ground. Then he stood still. With a crash the remaining fragments of the bridge fell into the gulf, leaving the vast gap unnarrowed at any part. The horse stood looking over the ravine. But though the king called him by name, the faithful creature who used to come to him at the slightest whisper paid no heed. In a few moments he galloped off along the track the courtiers had pursued.