When I was a boy of about 12, my cousin started across the narrow end of a bog. I followed for about ten feet and turned heel real quick. The mat of peat felt like walking on a waterbed. He called me chicken and started to bounce up and down to show me it was safe. His rifle fetched him up when he broke though and he BELLIED his way back, shaking like a leaf. I smiled and said, "Cock-a doodle-doo."