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By the time my great mount had settled again on his ledge, I had finished my work, even to restoring the gear in my saddle pack. - (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 12, Sentence #168)

I had no desire to die eventually of starvation in the lonely aerie of my tarn. I would leave on his back or die. In the hours that remained before the tarn returned to his nest, I used the binding fiber and bowstrings to repair, as well as I could, the harness and saddle. By the time my great mount had settled again on his ledge, I had finished my work, even to restoring the gear in my saddle pack. Almost as an afterthought I had included the Home Stone of Ar, that simple, uncomely piece of rock that had so transformed my destiny and that of an empire. Gripped in the talons of the tarn was the dead body of an antelope, one of the one-horned, yellow antelopes called tabuks that frequent the bright Ka-la-na thickets of Gor. The antelope's back had been broken, apparently in the tarn's strike, and its neck and head lolled aimlessly to one side. - (Tarnsman of Gor)