Having overcome the first labor, Rostam was forced to traverse a burning, waterless desert where the heat raged like a furnace. The scorching atmosphere and unbearable thirst sapped the strength from swift Rakhsh and dried the fluent tongue of the champion. His elephant-like body burned under the merciless sun; dismounting with javelin in hand, Rostam staggered through the hot sand like a drunken man, his tongue cracked with dryness as death closed in upon him.
In his desperation, he turned his face to the heavens and prayed to the Just Judge, offering his suffering so that the Almighty might grant safety to King Kay Kavus and release the Iranian captives from the clutches of the demons. As he collapsed onto the parched earth, divine mercy materialized: a plump wild ewe trotted past him. Recognizing that a wild beast could not survive without a water source, Rostam took heart, gripped his sword, held Rakhsh's bridle, and followed the ewe's trail until it led him to a luminous, crystal-clear spring.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Rostam offered profound praises to God for saving his life, declaring that whosoever turns from the Creator strays from wisdom. He bestowed rich blessings upon the ewe, praying that green pastures would ever sustain it and that no hunter's arrow or leopard's claw would ever harm it. Rostam bathed himself and Rakhsh until they shone bright as the sun, then hunted a massive wild ass, roasted it over a roaring fire, ate his fill, and buried the bones. Before yielding to sleep, he warned Rakhsh never to battle lions or demons alone again, but to wake him at the first sign of danger.