"He calls that singing.

He's been lying on his back, howling up at the sky like a sick dog, and he calls that singing.

Here, give us that whip." "No, no, Ike; let him be." "Yes; he'd better," cried Shock defiantly.
"Yes; I had better," cried Ike, snatching the whip from me, and giving it a crack like the report of a gun, with the result that Basket started off, and would not stop any more.
"Come down," roared Ike.
"Sha'n't!" cried Shock.

"You 'it me, and I'll cut the rope and let the baskets down." "Come down then." "Sha'n't! I ain't doing nothing to you." _Crack_! went the whip again, and I saw Shock bend down.
"I'm a-cutting the cart rope," he shouted.
"Come down." _Crack_! went the whip.
Shock did not speak.
"Will he cut the rope ?" I whispered.
"If he do we shall be two hours loading up again, and a lot o' things smashed," growled Ike.

Then aloud: "Are you a coming down?
Get down and go home." "Sha'n't!" came from above us; and, like a good general, Ike accepted his defeat, and climbed back to his place on the left shaft, while I took mine on the right.
"It's no good," he said in a low grumbling tone.