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Now the man facing me lifted his small, lacquered shield and his slender, black lance. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 2, Sentence #180)

Indeed, without that scar, no other scar can be granted. The Wagon Peoples value courage above all else. Each of the men facing me wore that scar. Now the man facing me lifted his small, lacquered shield and his slender, black lance. "Hear my name," cried he, "I am Kamchak of the Tuchuks!" As suddenly as he had finished, as soon as the men had named themselves, as if a signal had been given, the four kaiila bounded forward, squealing with rage, each rider bent low on his mount, lance gripped in his right hand, straining to be the first to reach me. The Spear Gambling One, the Tuchuk, I might have slain with a cast of the heavy Gorean war spear; the others would have had free play with their lances. I might have thrown myself to the ground as the larl hunters from Ar, once their weapon is cast, covering myself with the shield; but then I would have been beneath the clawed paws of four squealing, snorting kaiila, while the riders jabbed at me with lances, off my feet, helpless. - (Nomads of Gor)