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How clear much of this would have been to me had I been natively Gorean, or even longer on this strange, green, beautiful, fresh, unspoiled, perilous orb! I looked about, listening intently, straining to see, but I could see nothing but now-manifest threads of morning light glittering amongst the fibers of the wicker walls. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #314)

It was of mere wicker, even if of sturdy wicker. Too, it was light. Should a holding device not be formed of sterner, weightier stuff? I then, again, heard the scratching, or drawing, on wood, as though it were being raked by heavy knives. How clear much of this would have been to me had I been natively Gorean, or even longer on this strange, green, beautiful, fresh, unspoiled, perilous orb! I looked about, listening intently, straining to see, but I could see nothing but now-manifest threads of morning light glittering amongst the fibers of the wicker walls. I did not know the whereabouts of my master. Suddenly, I heard, for the first time, a mighty sound, deafening, but feet away, shrill and sustained, annunciatory, the long, shrieking, readiness cry of an awesome, dangerous, incredible form of life. Doubtless the sound might be familiar to some but it was not to me. - (Plunder of Gor)