Though The
Legend Is Known To Most People, I Shall Take The Liberty Of
Relating It.
Llywelyn during his contests with the English had encamped with a
few followers in the valley, and one day
Departed with his men on
an expedition, leaving his infant son in a cradle in his tent,
under the care of his hound Gelert, after giving the child its fill
of goat's milk. Whilst he was absent a wolf from the neighbouring
mountains, in quest of prey, found its way into the tent, and was
about to devour the child, when the watchful dog interfered, and
after a desperate conflict, in which the tent was torn down,
succeeded in destroying the monster. Llywelyn returning at evening
found the tent on the ground, and the dog, covered with blood,
sitting beside it. Imagining that the blood with which Gelert was
besmeared was that of his own son devoured by the animal to whose
care he had confided him, Llywelyn in a paroxysm of natural
indignation forthwith transfixed the faithful creature with his
spear. Scarcely, however, had he done so when his ears were
startled by the cry of a child from beneath the fallen tent, and
hastily removing the canvas he found the child in its cradle, quite
uninjured, and the body of an enormous wolf, frightfully torn and
mangled, lying near. His breast was now filled with conflicting
emotions, joy for the preservation of his son, and grief for the
fate of his dog, to whom he forthwith hastened.
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