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The sound of their bosk horns was welcome to us, signaling the retreat of those at the wagons. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 23, Sentence #108)

Some of the rear ranks actually climbed fallen and struggling comrades and leaped over the wagons to the other side, where they were cut down by archers and dragged from their kaiila to be flung beneath the knives of free Tuchuk women. At a distance of little more than a dozen feet thousands of arrows were poured into the trapped Paravaci and yet they pressed forward, on and over their brethren, and then, arrows spent, we met them on the wagons themselves with lances in our hands, thrusting them back and down. About a pasang distant we could see new forces of the Paravaci forming on the crest of a sweeping gradient. The sound of their bosk horns was welcome to us, signaling the retreat of those at the wagons. Bloody, covered with sweat, gasping, we saw the living Paravaci draw back, falling back between the newly forming lines on the gradient above. I issued orders swiftly and exhausted men poured from beneath and between the wagons to haul as many of the fallen kaiila and riders as possible from the wagons, that there might not be a wall of dying animals and men giving access to the height of our wagons. Scarcely had we cleared the ground before the wagons when the Paravaci bosk horns sounded again and another wave of kaiila and riders, lances set, raced towards us. - (Nomads of Gor)