forests in quest of their daily food, without incurring either question
or reproach from him, or, indeed, from any one, for it was a
thinly-inhabited district, and there were no gossiping neighbors to
bring the tale of trouble to the old herdsman.

But though Bladud's misfortune remained undetected, he was seriously
unhappy, for he felt himself to be the innocent cause of bringing the
infection of a sore disease among his master's swine. He would have
revealed the whole matter to him, only that he feared the evil could
not now be cured.

From day to day he led his herd deeper into the forests, and further
a-field; for he wished to escape the observation of every eye.
Sometimes, indeed, he did not bring them back to the herdsmen's
enclosure above once in a week. In the meantime he slept at night,
surrounded by his uncouth companions, under the shade of some
wide-spreading oak of the forest, living like them, upon acorns, or the
roots of the pig-nuts, which grew in the woods and marshes, and were,
when roasted, sweet and mealy, like potatoes, with the flavor of the
chestnut. These were dainties in comparison to the coarse, black
unleavened cakes on which poor Bladud had been used to feed ever since
his unhappy banishment.

The old herdsman was perfectly satisfied with Bladud's management of
the swine, and glad to find that he took the trouble of leading them
into fresh districts for change of food, of which swine are always
desirous.

So Bladud continued to penetrate into new and untrodden solitudes with
his grunting charge, till one day he saw the bright waters of the river