The mist was turning from black to grey and from grey to white. This must have begun to happen some time ago， but while he had been talking to the Thing he had not been noticing anything else. Now， the whiteness around him became a shining whiteness； his eyes began to blink. Somewhere ahead he could hear birds singing. He knew the night was over at last. He could see the mane and ears and head of his horse quite easily now. A golden light fell on them from the left. He thought it was the sun.
He turned and saw， pacing beside him， taller than the horse， a Lion. The horse did not seem to be afraid of it or else could not see it. It was from the Lion that the light came. No one ever saw anything more terrible or beautiful.
