During our walk Stapleton spoke of the moor and showed me the dreadful Grimpen Mire covered with bright green spots. They looked pleasant, but were treacherous and dangerous.
"It's a terrible place, the great Grimpen Mire. A false step there means death to man or beast."
As the path approached the mire we saw something brown rolling and tossing in the green grass. Then a long neck of a pony rose desperately and a dreadful cry came over the moor. In a moment the animal disappeared.