The hunter seemed to be disconcerted by the question, but, being a hungry man and a ravenous eater, he accepted the offer and began to eat the slice in moody silence.
“Your good pup has been a real blessing to me,” resumed the prince a few minutes later, during which time he had devoted himself to his own portion of food, “not only in the way of helping me to hunt and drive the pigs, but as a companion who can do all but speak.”
“He could speak if you would let him,” returned the hunter. “I speak to my dogs continually, and they always answer—not with their tongues, for that is not dog-language, but with their eyes—and I know every word they speak. You would wonder how clever they are, and what droll things they say sometimes.”
He burst into a wild hilarious laugh at this point, as if the thought of the canine pleasantries were too much for him; then suddenly became grave, and scowled furtively at his host, as if he felt that he had committed himself.
“You are right,” replied Bladud, affecting not to observe the scowl. “My pup often speaks to me with his eyes, but I am not so good at understanding the language as you appear to be. No doubt I shall acquire it in time.”
“Then you don’t like being alone?” said the hunter, after a pause, during which Bladud saw that he was eyeing him keenly, though he pretended not to observe this.
“No, I don’t like it at all, but it can’t be helped.”
“Well, it might have been helped, for I could have sent them to you.”
“Sent whom?”
“A man and a boy. They were not together, but came to my hut at different times inquiring for you, but, knowing your desire for solitude, I turned them away on the wrong scent.”