Eventually, they came upon a clue, two days after they had arrived in Hoofshire. It was at a farm several miles from Foalsdale. Apparently, the farmpony, an apple farmer apparently who had branched out and occasionally grew oranges, had spotted a griffon hauling a wagon with several crates down towards the town of Caulkins. That certainly had lifted their spirits. When questioned, the brown stallion stated that the griffon had looked worse for wear, his coat very dirty, and he had this haunted look about his face, right miserable-looking. His daughter had tried to offer him some help, but the griffon had rudely shrugged her off.