Customs of the Wagon People
The customs of the wagon People vary from those of other
Gorean cities, ports and islands. The
way they greet, the things they eat and value, their calendar, their preferred
weapons and mounts and their nomadic life style. Throughout the Kataii Wagon camp web site,
I’ve tried to include quotes concerning what is unique about wagon people. Most come from book four of the canon,
Nomads of Gor and most quotes refer to the Tuchuk and there are very few
mentions of Kataii specifically. For
this reason, we will assume everything not specifically noted as unique to
Kataii is identical with the Tuchuk and their customs. What follows are a series of quotes from the canon that
define customs unique to the wagon people and some brief comments on them. These quotes just did not seem to fit in the
other categories with their own pages on our web site. So if you are interested in the clothing of
slaves, see the slaves’ silk’s pages, or what is unique about the animals or
food or weapons of the wagon people, refer to those pages. I tend to put the quotes specific to wagon
people at the bottom of said pages, but try to include as much information that
is true of Gor in general as well for all. Among them, too, were soothsayers and haruspexes, and singers
and musicians, and, here and there, small peddlers and merchants, of various
cities, for such are occasionally permitted by the Tuchuks, who crave their
wares, to approach the wagons. Each of these, I was later to learn, wore on his
forearm a tiny brand, in the form of spreading bosk horns, which guaranteed his
passage, at certain seasons, across the plains of the Wagon Peoples. The
difficulty, of course is in first obtaining the brand. If, in the case of a
singer, the song is rejected, or in the case of a merchant, his merchandise is
rejected, he is slain out of hand. This acceptance brand, of course, carries
with it a certain stain of ignominy, suggesting that those who approach the
wagons do as slaves. Nomads of Gor,
34. Though Free Men (not Women) in wagon camps use the "Tal"
greeting and a raised right hand with the palm facing inward to the shoulder and
also greet more formally by grasping right wrist to right wrist and shaking
arms, sometime the following occurs: He grinned a Tuchuck grin. "How are the Bosk?" he asked. "As well as may be expected, said Kamchak. "Are the Quivas sharp?" "One tries to keep them so," said Kamchak. "It is important to keep the axles of the wagons greased,"
observed Kutaituchik. "Yes," said Kamchak, "I believe so." Kutaituchik suddenly reached out and he and Kamchak,laughing,
clasped hands." Nomads of
Gor, 44. The above exchange is traditional among wagon people
sometimes use to cement their unity as wagon people in mutual understanding for
their customs and life style. In online
Gor, I’ve seen the above used as a kind of test to see if the wagon person
addressed knows anything about being of a wagon camp. Wagon people are wary of strangers and the holding of
grass and earth is used as a way of cementing the relationship between two as
peaceful. Suddenly the Tuchuk bent to the soil and picked up a handful
of dirt and grass, the land on which the bosk graze, the land which is the land
of the Tuchuks, and this dirt and this grass he thrust in my hands and I held
it. The warrior grinned and put his hands over mine so that our hands, together
held the dirt and grass, and were together clasped upon it. Holding of grass and earth even makes two brothers of a
valuable kind. "He is a stranger," she said. "He should be slain!"
"You would risk," I asked, "the herds – the wagons – the
peoples?" "Yes," said Kamchak. "Why?" I asked. He looked at me and smiled. "Because," said he, "we have
together held grass and earth." Nomads of
Gor, 52. Remember, the herds are the most important possession of a
wagon camp Wagon people are very fond of wagering as the following
quotes show. For an extensive list of games, including ways to wager online, see
our Games
Page. The Tuchuks, not unlike Goreans in general, are fond of
gambling. Indeed it is not unknown that a Tuchuk will bet his entire stock of
Bosk on the outcome of a single kailla race; as many as a dozen slave girls may
change hands on something as small as the direction that a bird will fly or the
number of seeds in a tospit. Nomads of
Gor, 60. "Odd or even?" he asked. I had resolved not to wager with Kamchak, but this was indeed
an opportunity to gain a certain amount of vengeance which, on my part, would be
sorely appreciated. Usually, in guessing tospit seeds, one guesses the actual
number, and usually both guessers opt for an odd number. The common tospit
almost invariable has an odd number of seeds. On the other hand the rare,
long-stemmed tospit usually has an even number of seeds. Both fruits are
indistinguishable outwardly. I could see that, perhaps by accident, the tospit
which Kamchak had thrown me had had the stem twisted off. It must be then, I
surmised, the rare long stemmed-tospit. "Even," I said. "Very well," said he, "eat the tospit and
see." "I am a Tuchuk, said Kamchak, "I might be tempted to swallow
seeds." As soon as Kamchak had agreed to Albrecht's proposal the
children and several of the slave girls immediately began to rush toward the
wagons, delightedly crying "Wager! Wager!" Soon, to my dismay, a large number of Tuchuks, male and
female, and their male or female slaves, began to gather near the worn lane on
the turf. The terms of the wager were soon well known. In the crowd, as well as
Tuchuks and those of the Tuchuks, there were some Kassars, a Paravaci or two,
even one of the Kataii. The slave girls in the crowd seemed particularly
excited. I could hear bets being taken. Nomads of
Gor, 59-60. We decided to wager to see who would get the second bottle of
Paga. "What about the flight of birds?" asked Kamchak. "Agreed," I said, "but I have first choice." "Very well," he said. I knew, of course, that it was spring and, in this
hemisphere, most birds, if there were any migrating, would be moving south.
"South," I said. "North," he said. We then waited about a minute, and I saw
several birds, river gulls, flying north. "Those are Vosk gulls," said Kamchak, "In the spring, when
the ice breaks in the Vosk, they fly north." I fished some coins out of my pouch
for the Paga. "The first southern migrations of meadow kites," he said, "have
already taken place. The migrations of the forest herlit and the horned gaim do
not take place until later in the spring. This is the time that the Vosk gulls
fly." "Oh," I said. Nomads of
Gor, 137-38. The following passage pretty much speaks for
itself. The Tuchuks and the other Wagon Peoples reverence
Priest-Kings, but unlike other Goreans of the cities, with their castes of
Initiates, they do not extend to them the dignities of worship. I suppose the Tuchuks worship nothing in the
common sense of the word, but it is true they hold many things holy, among them
the bosk and the skills of arms, but the chief of the things before which the
proud Tuchuk stands ready to remove his helmet is the sky, the simple, vast
beautiful sky, from which falls the rain that, in his myths, formed the earth,
and the bosks and the Tuchuks. It is to
the sky that the Tuchuks pray when they pray, demanding victory and luck for
themselves, defeat and misery for their enemies. The Tuchuk, incidentally, like others of the
Wagon Peoples, prays only when mounted, only when in the saddle and with weapons
at hand; he prays to the sky not as a slave to a master, nor a servant to a god,
but as warrior to a Ubar; the women of the Wagon Peoples, it might be mentioned,
are not permitted to pray; many of them, however, do patronize the haruspexes,
who, besides fortelling the future with a greater or lesser degree of accuracy
for generally reasonable fees, provide an incredible assemblage of amulets,
talismans, trinkets, philters, potion, spell papers, wonder-working sleen teeth,
marvelous powdered kailiauk horns, and colored, magic strings that, depending on
the purpose, may be knotted in various ways and worn about the neck. Nomads of Gor, 28. A consequence of the chronological conventions of the Wagon
Peoples, of course, is that their years tend to vary in length, but this fact,
which might bother us, does not bother them, any more than the fact that some
men and some animals live longer than others; the women of the Wagon Peoples,
incidentally, keep a calendar based on the phases of Gor's largest moon, but
this is a calendar of fifteen moons, named for the fifteen varieties of bosk,
and functions independently of the tallying of years by snows; for example, the
Moon of the Brown Bosk may at one time occur in the winter, at another time,
years later, in the summer; this calendar is kept by a set of colored pegs set
in the sides of some wagons, on one of which, depending on the moon, a round,
wooden plate bearing the image of a bosk is fixed. The years, incidentally, are
not numbered by the Wagon Peoples, but given names, toward their end, based on
something or other which has occurred to distinguish the year. The year names
are kept in living memory by the Year Keepers, some of whom can recall the names
of several thousand consecutive years. Nomads of
Gor, 12. The Wagon Peoples do not trust important matters, such as
year names, to paper or parchment, subject to theft, insect and rodent damage,
deterioration, etc. Most of those of the Wagon Peoples have excellent memories,
trained from birth. Few can read, though some can, perhaps having acquired the
skill far from the wagons, perhaps from merchants or tradesmen. The Wagon
Peoples, as might be expected, have a large and complex oral literature. This is
kept by and occasionally, in parts, recited by the Camp Singers. Nomads of Gor, 12. The Wagon Peoples war among themselves, but once in every two
hands of years, there is a time of gathering of the peoples and this, I had
learned, was that time. In the thinking of the Wagon Peoples it is called the
Omen Year. Nomads of Gor,
11. "It is the Omen Year," had said Kamchak of the Tuchuks…. It is in the spring that the omens are taken,
regarding the possible election of the Ubar San, the One Ubar, he who would be
Ubar of all the Wagons, of all the Peoples." Nomads of Gor, 55. The games of the Love War are celebrated every spring ...
whereas the Omen Year occurs only every tenth year. Nomads of Gor, 115. The animals sacrificed, incidentally, are later used for
food, so the Omen taking, far from being a waste of animals, is actually a time
of feasting and plenty for the Wagon Peoples, who regard the Omen taking,
provided it results that no Ubar San is to be chosen, as an occasion for gaiety
and festival. As I may have mentioned, no Ubar San had been chosen for more than
a hundred years. Nomads of Gor,
171. "This is the first Omen," said Kamchak, "– the Omen to see if
the Omens are propitious to take the Omens."Nomads of Gor, 172. Conrad spoke. "The Omens have been taken," he said.
I was looking on the faces of four men, warriors of the Wagon
Peoples. On the face of each there were, almost like corded chevrons, brightly
colored scars. the vivid coloring and intensity of these scars, their
prominence, reminded me of the hideous markings on the faces of mandrills; But
these disfigurements, as I soon recognized, were cultural, not congenital, and
bespoke not of natural innocence of the work of genes but of glories, and
status, the arrogance the prides, of their bearers. The scars had been worked
into the faces, with needles and knives and pigments and the dung of bosk over
the period of days and nights. Men had died in the fixing of such scars. Most
scars were set in pairs, moving diagonally down from the side of the head toward
the nose and chin. The man facing me had seven such scars ceremonially worked
into the tissue of his countenance, the highest being red, the next yellow, the
next blue, the fourth black, then two yellow then black again. The faces of the
men I saw were all scarred differently, but each was scarred. The effect of the
scars, ugly, startling, terrible, perhaps in part calculated to terrify enemies,
had even prompted me, for a wild moment, to conjecture that what I faced on the
plains of Turia were not men, but perhaps aliens of some sort, brought to Gor
long ago from remote worlds to serve some now discarded or forgotten purpose of
the Priest Kings; but now I knew better; now I could see them as men; as now
more significantly, I recalled what I had heard whispered of once before, in a
tavern of Ar, the terrible Scar Codes of the Wagon Peoples, for each of the
hideous marks on the face of these men had meaning, a significance that could be
read by the Paravaci, the Kassars, the Kataii, the Tuchuks, as clearly as you or
I might read a sign in a window or a sentence in a book. At that time I could
read only the top scar, the red, bright, fierce cordlike scar that was the
Courage Scar. It is always the highest scar on the face. Indeed, without that
scar, no other scar can be granted. The wagon peoples value courage above all
else. Nomads of Gor,
15-16. "When I have time," said Harold, "I will call one from the clan of Scarrers
and have the scar affixed. It will make me look even more handsome." "Without the Courage Scar one may not, among the Tuchuks, pay court to a free
woman, own a wagon, or own more than five bosk and three kaiila. The Courage
Scar thus has its social and economic, as well as its martial, import." Nomads of Gor, 113. "To a Tuchuk," said Harold, "success is courage - that is the important
thing- courage itself - even if all else fails - that is success." Nomads of Gor, 273. A young man, blondish-haired with blue eyes, unscarred, bumped against the
girl's stirrup in the press of the crowd. She struck him twice with the leather
quirt in her hand, sharply, viciously. I could see blood on the side of his
neck, where it joins the shoulder. "You are a coward!" cried Kamras. I wondered if Kamras knew the meaning of
the word which he had dared to address to one who wore the Courage Scar of the
Wagon Peoples. Nomads of Gor,
102. "It should be worth the Courage Scar," said Harold from above, "don't you
think so?" "And while you are remembering things," remarked Harold, "you might recollect
that we two together won the Courage Scar in Turia." "Be patient, Tarl Cabot," said Kamchak, beside me on his kaiila. "In the
spring there will be the games of Love War and I will go to Turia, and you may
then, if you wish, accompany me." Nomads of
Gor, 55-56. "The stakes, flat-topped, each about six and half feet high and about seven
or eight inches in diameter, stand in two long lines facing one another in
pairs. The two lines are separated by about fifty feet and each in a line is
separated from the stake on its left and right by about ten yards. The two lines
of stakes extended for more than four pasangs across the prairie." "The institution of Love War is an ancient one among the Turians and the
Wagon Peoples...The games of the Love War are celebrated every spring..." Nomads of Gor, 115. "The theoretical justification of the games of the Love War, from the Turian
point of view, is that they provide an excellent arena in which to demonstrate
the fierceness and prowess of Turian warriors, thus perhaps intimidating or, at
the very least, encouraging the often overbold warriors of the Wagon Peoples to
be wary of Turian steel." Nomads of Gor, 116 I once asked Kamchak if the Wagon Peoples had a justification for the games
of LoveWar. "Yes," he had said. And he had then pointed to Dina and Tenchika,
clad kajir, who were at that time busy in the wagon. "That is the
justification," said Kamchak. And he had then laughed and pounded his
knee." Nomads of Gor,
116. "As I knew, not just any girl, any more than just any warrior, could
participate in the games of the Love War. Only the most beautiful were eligible,
and only the most beautiful of these could be chosen." Nomads of Gor,
117.
As always, if there are any
additions or changes anyone feels would improve this page, feel free to e-mail
me. I'm Ubar Ammar.
"Yes," said
the warrior, "come in peace to the Land of the Wagon Peoples." Nomads of Gor, 26.
Kamchak grinned up at her. "He has held with me dirt and earth," he
said. Nomads of Gor, 32.
"Even," I said.
Kamchak
looked at me as though pained. "Tospits almost always have an odd number of
seeds," he said.
"Why should I eat it?" I asked. The tospit, after all, is quite
bitter. And why shouldn’t Kamchak eat it? He had suggested the wager.
"Lets cut it up." I proposed.
"One might miss a seed
that way," said Kamchak.
"Perhaps we could mash the slices." I
suggested.
"But would that not be a great deal of trouble," asked
Kamchak, "and might one not stain the rug?"
"Perhaps we could mash them
in a bowl," I suggested.
"But then a bowl would have to be washed," said
Kamchak.
"That is true." I admitted.
"All things considered,"
said Kamchak, "I think the fruit should be eaten."
"I guess you are
right," I said. I bit into the fruit philosophically. It was indeed bitter.
"Besides," said Kamchak, "I do not much care for tospits."
"I am
not surprised," I said.
"They are quite bitter," said Kamchak.
"Yes," I said. I finished the fruit and, of course, it had seven seeds.
"Most tospits," Kamchak informed me, "have an odd number of seeds."
I know," I said.
"Then why did you guess even?" he asked.
"I supposed," I grumbled, "that you would have found a long-stemmed
tospit."
"But they are not available," he said, "until late in the
summer."
"Oh," I said." Nomads of
Gor, 149-50.
"They have been read well," said Hakimba.
"For the first time in
more than a hundred years," said the Paravaci, "there is a Ubar San, a One Ubar,
Master of the Wagons!"...
"Kamchak," they cried, "Ubar San!"Nomads of Gor, 334.
The problem is that the canon does not
mention what other scars represent, so online Goreans have invented a list of
scars with associate colors. I understand the desire to do this, but in doing so
and accepting this Scar Code, one must accept the fact that there is no support
for the Code in the canon. I know this is frustrating, but after all, the books
of Gor are a canon of science fiction books not an anthropological encyclopedia.
John Norman left things out. How much we want to add to his work is a matter of
debate. Again this is a delicate topic. Comments can be send to me. I'm Ubar
Ammar.
I
smiled.
"Perhaps you would like me to call him for you as well?" inquired
Harold.
"No," I said.
"It might take attention away from your hair,"
he mentioned.
"No, thank you," I said.
"All right," said Harold, "it
is well known you are only a, Koroban, and not a Tuchuk." But then he added,
soldierly.
"But you wear the Courage Scar for what you did not all men
who wear the Courage Scar do so visibly."
I did not speak. Nomads of Gor, 274.
"Slave!" she hissed.
He looked up
angrily. "I am not a slave," he said. "I am Tuchuk."
"Turian slave!" she
laughed scornfully. "Beneath your furs you wear, I wager, the Kes!"
"I
am Tuchuk," he responded, looking angrily away.
Kamchak had told me of
the young man. Among the wagons he was nothing. He did what work he could,
helping with the bosk, for a piece of meat from a cooking pot.... He did not
have his own wagon or his own bosk. He did not even own a kaiila. He had armed
himself with castoff weapons, with which he practiced in solitude. None of
those, however, who led raids on enemy caravans or sorties against the city and
its outlying fields, or retaliated upon their neighbors in the delicate matters
of bask stealing, would accept him in their parties. He had, to their
satisfaction, demonstrated his prowess with weapons, but they would laugh at
him. "You do not even own a kaiila," they would say. "You do not even wear the
Courage Scar." I supposed that the young man would never be likely to wear the
scar, without which, among the stern, cruel Tuchuks, he would be the continuous
object of scorn, ridicule and contempt. Nomads of
Gor, 67-68.
"What?" I asked.
"Stealing a wench from the House of Saphrar
and returning on a stolen tarn."
"Undoubtedly," I grumbled. I found myself
wondering if the Tuchuks had an Idiocy Scar. If so, I might have nominated the
young man hoisting himself up the rope above me as a candidate for the
distinction. Nomads of Gor,
191.
"No," I said, "I will
not forget that either." Nomads of Gor
, 340
Certain customs involved participation of others, here the
Warriors of Turia, elsewhere of other Wagon Camps as in the Omen years. It would
be make online Gor much more Gorean if we could get sites to co-operate in these
activities.
"In
the space between the two lines of stakes, for each pair of facing stakes, there
was a circle of roughly eight yards in diameter. This circle, the grass having
been removed, was sanded and raked." Nomads of
Gor, 112-113.