At the top it turned over by its own weight.

Thus seventy odd times.
Then Fred Green hitched his team on and the four horses drew the creaking, cumbrous vehicle spouting down the road.

Water gushed in fans from the openings on either side and beneath; and in streams from two holes behind.

Not for an instant as long as the flow continued dared the teamsters breathe their horses, for a pause would freeze the runners tight to the ground.

A tongue at either end obviated the necessity of turning around.
While the other men hewed at the required beam for the broken V plow, Heath, Stratton, and Green went over the cleared road-length once.