"Where doth this sow go to?" said Gwydion.
"Every day, when the sty is opened, she goeth forth, and none can catch sight of her, neither is it known whither she goeth more than if she sank into the earth."
"Wilt thou grant unto me," said Gwydion, "not to open the sty until I am beside the sty with thee?"
"This will I do right gladly," he answered.
That night they went to rest. And as soon as the swineherd saw the light of day, he awoke Gwydion. And Gwydion arose and dressed himself, and went with the swineherd, and stood beside the sty. Then the swineherd opened the sty. And as soon as he opened it, behold she leaped forth, and set off with great speed. And Gwydion followed her. And she went against the course of a river, and made for a brook, which is now called Nant y Llew. And there she halted, and began feeding under a tree. And Gwydion came under the tree, and looked, and as he looked he beheld on the top of the tree an eagle. And it seemed to him that the eagle was Llew. And he sang an Englyn:—
"Oak that grows between the two banks;
Darkened is the sky and hill!
Shall I not tell him by his wounds,
That this is Llew?"
Upon this the eagle came down until he reached the centre of the tree. And Gwydion sang another Englyn:—