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As soon as the hundreds of ponderous tharlarion had been marshaled into an order, a lance, carrying a fluttering pennon, dipped and there was a sudden signal on the tharlarion drums. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 10, Sentence #223)

The walls were crowded, and I supposed many upon them used the long glasses of the Caste of Builders to observe the field of the stakes. The warriors of Turia extended their formation about two hundred yards from the stakes until in ranks of four or five deep they were strung out in a line as long as the line of stakes itself. Then they halted. As soon as the hundreds of ponderous tharlarion had been marshaled into an order, a lance, carrying a fluttering pennon, dipped and there was a sudden signal on the tharlarion drums. Immediately the lances of the lines lowered and the hundreds of tharlarion, hissing and grunting, their riders shouting, the drums beating, began to bound rapidly towards us. "Treachery!" I cried. There was nothing living on Gor I knew that could take the impact of a tharlarion charge. - (Nomads of Gor)