By degrees the summer merged into autumn; the foliage assumed the tints of green and gold. Then it became russet, and finally the cold bleak winds of a northern winter shrieked through the valley and swept the leaves away.
During all this time no human being had gone near that region, or paid the forlorn prince a visit, except once when the hunter of the Hot Swamp made his appearance.
The rebellious tribes retained too vivid a recollection of the slaughter that had taken place during and after the fight with King Hudibras, to risk a second encounter with that monarch, so that the place was at that time absolutely deserted by human beings—though it was sufficiently peopled by the lower animals. On the occasion when the hunter unexpectedly appeared, he demanded of Bladud an account of his stewardship. The report was so satisfactory that the hunter became, for him, quite amiable; commended his swine-herd and drove off a number of the pigs to market. On his return, laden with the few household goods for which he had bartered them, he paid the prince another visit, and even condescended to accept an invitation to enter his hut and partake of a roast of venison which was at the time being prepared for the mid-day meal. He was still, however, very brusque and taciturn.
“No one has been near me during the whole summer or autumn but yourself,” observed Bladud with an involuntary sigh.
“You must be pleased at that,” returned the hunter, sharply; “you said you came here for solitude.”
“Truly I did; but I had not thought it would be so hard to bear.”
“Why do you seek it, then, if you don’t like it?” asked the hunter in the same brusque, impatient manner which characterised all his words and actions.
“I am forced to seek it by a Power which may not be resisted with impunity.”
“There is no such power!” exclaimed the hunter with a wild, demoniac laugh. “I can resist any power—all powers. There is nothing that I cannot resist and overcome.”
The gigantic man, with his dishevelled locks and shaggy beard, looked so fierce and powerful, as he sat on the opposite side of the fire glaring at his host, that Bladud became impressed with a hope that the maniac—for such he evidently was—would not attempt to prove his resistless power there and then. In order to avert such a catastrophe, he assumed an air of the most perfect ease and indifference to the boast, and asked him with a bland smile if he would have another slice of venison.