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Later in the morning, on the dusty road outside the posts, a two-wheeled cart passed, drawn by a small tharlarion, driven by a single driver. - (Fighting Slave of Gor, Chapter 21, Sentence #177)

"How clever you scoundrels are! You engage me in conversation, and then, you shirkers, you dally in the performance of your fitting and lowly labors! Do you think you are free persons who may stop to pass the time of day? No, you are collared brutes! Now work, you neck-ringed sleen, if you would live to see the sunset, work! Work!" Laughing, with a will, we turned again to our labors. "Away!" cried Barus, waving his cloak at a tharlarion, browsing near the posts. It blinked, and turned away, its huge tail twitching. Later in the morning, on the dusty road outside the posts, a two-wheeled cart passed, drawn by a small tharlarion, driven by a single driver. Behind it, her neck tied by a rope to the back of it, in a brief slave tunic, her hands braceleted behind her back, walked a slave girl. She turned, as she walked, to regard me. Our eyes met. - (Fighting Slave of Gor)