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Standing below the hull, quite close, in the shifting rence craft, I made a small clicking noise, a sound that meant nothing but, in the darkness, meaning nothing, would be startling, terrifying in its uncomprehended import. - (Raiders of Gor, Chapter 8, Sentence #114)

In this situation, then, it was natural, expecting an attack on either the first or the last barge, that the officer, he of the golden slashes on the temples of his helmet, would concentrate his men in the first and last barges. We had come now to the hull of the fourth barge, and we had come to her as silently as a rence flower might have drifted to her side. Having no large number of men at my disposal, it seemed best to me to let the men of Port Kar themselves do most of my fighting. Standing below the hull, quite close, in the shifting rence craft, I made a small clicking noise, a sound that meant nothing but, in the darkness, meaning nothing, would be startling, terrifying in its uncomprehended import. I heard the sudden intake of breath which marked the position of a man. With the noose of marsh vine I dragged him over the side of the hull, lowering him into the marsh, holding him until I felt the tharlarion take him from me, drawing him away. Slaves chained at the benches began to cry out with fear. - (Raiders of Gor)