Now you quit.

Here's a lot o' rocks and mud and I got to 'tend to business.

You tackle yer mother and chase her up and down the hills a while and let me get my breath." Samson's diary tells how, at the top of the long, steep hills he used to cut a small tree by the roadside and tie its butt to the rear axle and hang on to its branches while his wife drove the team.

This held their load, making an effective brake.
Traveling through the forest, as they had been doing for weeks, while the day waned, they looked for a brookside on which they could pass the night with water handy.

Samson tethered, fed and watered their horses, and while Sarah and the children built a fire and made tea and biscuits, he was getting bait and catching fish in the stream.
"In a few minutes from the time I wet my hook a mess of trout would be dressed and sizzling, with a piece of salt pork, in the pan, or it was a bad day for fishing," he writes.
After supper the wagon was partly unloaded, the feather bed laid upon the planks under the wagon roof and spread with blankets.