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If such were to be elected, I trusted, at least for the sake of the Wagon Peoples, that it would not be Kutaituchik. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 12, Sentence #27)

There was no time to lose. And yet how could I succeed? I resolved that the best time to steal the egg would be during the days of the Omen Taking. At that time Kutaituchik and other high men among the Tuchuks, doubtless including Kamchak, would be afield, on the rolling hills surrounding the Omen Valley, in which, on the hundreds of smoking altars, the haruspexes of the four peoples would be practicing their obscure craft, taking the omens, trying to determine whether or not they were favorable for the election of a Ubar San, a One Ubar, who would be Ubar of all the Wagons. If such were to be elected, I trusted, at least for the sake of the Wagon Peoples, that it would not be Kutaituchik. Once he might have been a great man and warrior but now, somnolent and fat, he thought of little save the contents of a golden kanda box. But, I reminded myself, such a choice, if choice there must be, might be best for the cities of Gor, for under Kutaituchik the Wagons would not be likely to move northward, nor even to the gates of Turia. But, I then reminded myself even more strongly, there would be no choice—there had been no Ubar San for a hundred years or more—the Wagon Peoples, fierce and independent, did not wish a Ubar San. - (Nomads of Gor)