"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Joie, whoa, Joie!" cried Ali, dancing up and down before his bewildered friend.
The great breast-collar was cutting into Joie's chest so that he thought it would cut through his skin. He had hauled upon heavy wagons before, but never had a wagon acted like this one. Wagons had never tried to pull him backward.
Finally the desperately straining Joie got it into his head that Ali wanted him to whoa, so he braced his sturdy legs like four small trees and the backward swing of the four horses was stopped as suddenly as though they had come up against the rock of Gibraltar.
"That's the stuff, Ali. That's the trick!" shouted the Sahib. "Now hold them. Just let them pull their heads off; then we will show them."
