The master cried out, Beddgelert, my faithful friend, how could you betray me like this? He was so distraught that he immediately raised his rifle and shot Beddgelert dead. Then the master stumbled out of the door of the cottage and fell to his knees, weeping helplessly. Suddenly, he heard the tiny sobs of his son. The master leapt to his feet and rushed back into the cottage amazed to find his son alive and well, indeed without even the smallest scratch on his body.
The master suddenly realized his terrible mistake. All too late, he realized that the blood he saw was that of the wolf and his devoted dog, Beddgelert. Filled with remorse, he carried Beddgelert to the oak tree in the garden and buried him. The remains of Beddgelert lie there to this very day. The story of his loyalty and bravery is written for all to read on a beautiful headstone erected in his honor. Beddgelert was laid to rest in the shade of a large oak tree, situated by a babbling river, on the edge of the town which is now called Beddgelert.
贝德格勒特
很久以前,在威尔士北部的高原上,生活着一只黑色的大猎犬,名叫贝德格勒特。贝德格勒特同他的主人一块儿居住在一个小镇边上的一座傍河的农舍里。小镇坐落在一个为森林和多岩石的的山峦所环绕的美丽山谷里。每天,贝德格勒特都和他的主人到森林里或者山上去打猎。每天傍晚上回家时,他们都会带回来一只野鹿、一头野猪,或者更经常的带回来野兔、野鸡或者松鸡。
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