Prince Llewellyn had a dog called Gelert. His father-in-law had given him as a gift, and from the first the prince and the dog were firm friends. In the hunt there was no dog so brave and fearless as Gelert. Yet within Llewellyn’s palace no dog was so gentle and affectionate. One fine morning in early autumn prince Llewellyn was going hunting. The huntsman blew his horn in the castle courtyard. Knights and pages, horses and hounds crowded before the castle walls. Llewellyn walked into the midst of the hounds. "Don and Juno, Seren and Morwen are here," he cried, and continued to count the dogs. "But where is Gelert?" The huntsman blew his horn again at the prince’s command, but no Gelert answered the call. "Strange that Gelert does not hear the horn," said Llewellyn sadly, as the huntsmen moved away. Llewellyn did not enjoy his ride that day. When evening came he was glad to ride back to his castle. As he rode through the gateway Gelert sprang forward to greet him. "Gelert, Gelert! Where hast thou been hiding all day?" Llewellyn leapt from his horse to pat the dog, but he drew back shuddering, for the dog’s jaws were dripping with blood. The prince spoke in anger. Gelert cowered against a wall in fear. Llewellyn strode into his castle in search of his little son. The little prince was often left in Gelert’s charge, and Llewellyn feared the dog had done some harm. He leapt up the stone staircase, his spurs ringing at every stride, and ran into his little son’s room, Gelert padding after him. In the doorway Llewellyn paused. He could see the walls and floor were covered with bloodstains. The child’s cradle had been overturned. The baby prince was nowhere to be seen. "Little son!" Llewellyn called, but there was no answering cry. He raised the broken cradle, but the child was not beneath it. He searched around the room, but failed to find a trace of the young prince. Llewellyn saw Gelert standing near. "Thou hast done it!" he cried. "Thou evil dog!" Beside himself in distress, Llewellyn drew his sword and thrust it up to the hilt into the dog’s body. Gelert moaning, and looking sadly at Llewellyn, sank to the floor and died. Llewellyn cried out in sorrow as he saw the dog die. The prince’s cry was answered by another cry, faint but loud enough to reach a father’s ear. In two strides Llewellyn was at a couch in the far corner of the room. There safely hidden, he found his young son just awakened from a sweet sleep. Behind the couch lay the body of a wolf, newly slain. "Alas brave Gelert!" cried Prince Llewellyn, "Too late do I discover thy brave deed. But for thee, this fierce wolf would have devoured my baby son. How grievously have I repaid thee!" Llewellyn mourned deeply. His courtiers tried to comfort him. "It is useless to lament thus," said one "You cannot make the dead dog alive again." Llewellyn thought what he could best do to preserve the memory of his brave dog. Gelert was buried. A great grave was dug, and a monument was placed over the body. Llewellyn hung there his horn and sceptre as a tribute of respect. The grave can be seen today at a place called the grave of Gelert- Bedd Gelert.
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