Braking a wagon: present and past!

I found this image of an antique wagon online, and I’m posting it to show what “brake” meant on a wagon like this. It is the lever sticking up from the left front wheel in the illustration above, and it applied pressure to the wheel to slow it down.

Here is an incident from the modern part of the story, when Lars climbs onto an old wagan, releases the brake (not knowing what it is) and goes on a wild ride down the driveway:

As the wagon lurched down the steep, rutted drive, picking up speed with every passing second, I tried to get up the nerve to jump off, but the sight of the ground rushing by kept my hands riveted to the wagon seat. With rising panic, I fixed my eyes on the pike below and the bone-breaking drop-off I knew was beyond it. In my mind I could see myself flying through the air and hear the splintering of wood. Then, suddenly, just before the wagon hurtled across the road to plunge over the edge, somebody reached out and pulled hard on the lever. The wagon groaned to a stop.

Jensen, Dorothea. The Riddle of Penncroft Farm (Great Episodes) (pp. 28-29). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition. 

And here is the “echo” incident from when Geordie’s runaway team is headed for the Brandywine battlefield:

"At the very moment I climbed to the seat and took up the reins, the valley behind me exploded with artillery fire. Terrified, Daisy and Buttercup reared in their traces. Up and up they went, pawing the smoke-filled air. Then they plunged back to the ground, landing at a dead run. For a few breathless moments I simply clung to the reins, pulling for all I was worth, but the horses were too panic-stricken to feel the bits sawing at their mouths. My arms ached from the effort, and I eased off to recover some strength for another try. Perhaps my horses bolting might be a blessing in disguise, I thought. It would surely get me away from the Brandywine much faster than their usual pace. Then I realized where we were headed: due east toward Birmingham Road, where the British and Americans were about to clash in battle. With strength born of fear, I reached for the brake, only to have the lever break off in my hand.

The Riddle of Penncroft Farm © 1989 by Dorothea Jensen