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I hoped it might rain again, as that would wash scent away, clearing it from rocks and soil, obliterating trails. I had no idea where I was, save that I was clearly north of the Alexandra. I saw a tabuk, small, graceful, single-horned, here in the woods brown pelted, startled, lift its head from a water-filled declivity, and dart away. They are lovely animals, round-eyed, and alert. Usually there is more than one about. It was now late afternoon, and still warm. I climbed to a dry place, a small clearing amongst the trees, sat down, and, with grass, dried my feet and calves. - (Smugglers of Gor)