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"Here, here!" he cried cheerily, hauling the exhausted Aphris to her knees. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter 11, Sentence #136)

She was trim, vital, buoyant. I wondered how many of the girls in her New York office could have run as she beside the stirrup of a Tuchuk warrior. Kamchak leaped down from the saddle of the kaiila, puffing a bit. "Here, here!" he cried cheerily, hauling the exhausted Aphris to her knees. "There is work to be done, Wench!" She looked up at him, the thong still on her neck, her wrists bound. Her eyes seemed dazed. "There are bosk to be groomed," he informed her, "and their horns and hoofs must be polished—there is fodder to be fetched and dung to be gathered—the wagon must be wiped and the wheels greased—and there is water to be brought from the stream some four pasangs away and meat to hammer and cook for supper—hurry—hurry, Lazy Girl!" Then he leaned back and laughed his Tuchuk laugh, slapping his thighs. - (Nomads of Gor)