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The slave lost her grip and cried out, but Cabot seized her by the hair and pulled her to him, and then both were clinging to a rope wrapped about a single log, and the raft might then, for all they knew, have been a dozen yards away. - (Kur of Gor, Chapter 34, Sentence #69)

Even Grendel could not see for the darkness, and the rain. Cold water washed over the remains of the raft, now little more than loosened timbers, held in proximity to one another by strained, then slack, scattered strands of rope. "Hold to me!" called Cabot to the slave, and he thrust a log away and tried, clinging to another, to work his way from the raft. The slave lost her grip and cried out, but Cabot seized her by the hair and pulled her to him, and then both were clinging to a rope wrapped about a single log, and the raft might then, for all they knew, have been a dozen yards away. "Call out!" cried Grendel, "and I will try to stay with you! Call out! Call out!" "Here!" called Cabot. "Here!" In the darkness, in the cold, blinding water, he thrust the slave to the log, and, with loops of wet rope, loose from the log, fastened her to it, and then he thrust his own arm amongst the ropes, and clung to the log as it pitched about, rising and falling, and sometimes rolling over, taking them beneath the surface, and then it pitched up, again, in the darkness, bringing them again to the surface, they gasping for air, trying to breathe in the ferocity of the rain and wind. "Here!" cried Grendel, against the storm, scarcely audible. - (Kur of Gor)