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I bent down in the saddle and tensed to kick the kaiila forward to sweep her to the saddle, turn and race for our lives. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 10, Sentence #232)

Some were haggling with the vendors, others were talking among themselves. I wheeled the kaiila, looking for Elizabeth Cardwell, who, afoot, would be slain almost before the tharlarion had crossed the lines of the stakes. She was standing facing the charging tharlarion, as though rooted to the earth, her hands before her face. I bent down in the saddle and tensed to kick the kaiila forward to sweep her to the saddle, turn and race for our lives. "Really," said Kamchak. I straightened up and saw that the lines of the tharlarion lancers had, with much pounding and trampling of the earth, with shouting, with the hissing of the great beasts, stopped short, abruptly, some fifteen yards or so behind their line of stakes. "It is a Turian joke," said Kamchak. - (Nomads of Gor)