The four-wheeled wagon that Gema was riding in continued to slide down the hillside. He had screamed when the wagon hit the rocks causing him to almost let go of his hand that was holding on to the side of the cart. The wagon grew louder and louder that Gema had to squint his eyes as the wind hit his face.
“When do I get to the bottom?!” shouted Gema as he continued to hold on.
Another ten meters or so to the bottom, Gema sighed as he shifted from descending to gently sloping. The wagon was still sliding twenty meters on the sand until Echo pulled the brake lever and the wagon came to a stop.
With trembling legs Echo got off the wagon and plopped down on the sandbag.
"I will never again want to go down hill in a wagon!" he said, gasping for air.
After his breathing returned to normal,
