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It was a boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old. - (Raiders of Gor, Chapter 12, Sentence #40)

Then there was the sound of biting and tearing and thrashing in the water, as other urts attacked the injured one. Knife again between my teeth, pulling the bound thing from the sack, I shoved its head above the water. It was gagged as well as bound, and I saw its eyes wild, inches over the murky waters of the canal. It was a boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old. I brought it to the edge of the canal and one of my men, lying on his stomach, extending his hand downward, caught him under the arm. Then I saw Clitus' net flash over my head and heard the confused protesting squeal of another urt, and then Clitus, again and again, was thrusting into the dark waters with his trident. I felt my leg then caught in the jaws of an urt, like triple bands of steel, set with needles, and was dragged beneath the surface. - (Raiders of Gor)