I saw the spark of Kazrak�s fire-maker, and I felt the flush of friendship as I saw his features briefly outlined in the glow. He lit the small hanging tent lamp, a wick set in a copper bowl of tharlarion oil, and in its flickering light turned to the sleeping mat. No sooner had he done so than he fell to his knees on the mat and grasped the ring.
Tarnsman of Gor, page 167

The man from the Caste of Builders then sat cross-legged on the ground and took from the pouch slung at his waist a tiny, cylindrical Gorean fire-maker, a small silverish tube commonly used for igniting cooking fires. He unscrewed the cap and I could see the tip of the implement, as it was exposed to the air, begin to glow a fiery red.
Priest Kings of Gor, page 138

Taphris lay weeping in my arms, trying to kiss me in the darkness.
"Are you now Mistress?" I asked.
"I did not know such feelings could exist," she said.
"Are you now Mistress?" I asked.
"No," she said, "no. I am only a slave! I was a slave before, but did not know it. You are the first to have taught me, truly, that I am a slave."
"Do you think you will forget it?" I asked.
"No," she said, "I will never forget it. I will remember it, lovingly, always."
I began to kiss her about the shoulders and throat.
"I am a slave!" she cried, happily. "I am your slave, Master!"
"Enough!" cried the Mistress. "Light! Light!"
I heard a fire maker strike in the darkness. There was a shower of sparks and then a tiny flame.
Taphris squealed in terror, squirming helplessly under me.
Then Kenneth had lit the torch and held it.
Fighting slave of Gor, page 308

"I shall light the lantern," said Samos. He crouched down and extracted a tiny fire-maker from his pouch, a small device containing a tiny reservoir of tharlarion oil, with a tharlarion-oil-impregnated wick, to be ignited by a spark, this generated from the contact of a small, ratcheted steel wheel, spun by a looped thumb handle, with a flint splinter.
Savages of Gor, page 15

I heard the tiny wheel scratch at the flint. I did not take my eyes from the things at the far end of the room, on the floor, half hidden by a large table, the area open behind them leading to the ruined tarn cot. It is not wise to look away from such things, if they are in the vicinity, or to turn one�s back upon them. I did not know if they were asleep or not. I guessed that they were not. My hand rested on the hilt of my sword. Such things, I had reason to know, could move with surprising speed.
The wick of the fire-maker was now aflame. Samos, carefully, held the tiny flame to the wick of the now-unshuttered dark lantern. It, too, burned tharlarion oil.
Savages of Gor, pages 15-16

The auctioneer signaled to an attendant who, from aside of the hall, brought forth a shallow copper bowl, some two feet in diameter, filled with slender cylinders of oil-impregnated wood. In a moment, with a fire-maker, of flint and steel, he had ignited this wood. The girl looked at it. I do not think, at that time, she clearly understood its significance.
Savages of Gor, page 112

"They found one another," I said. I then thrust my captive to the side. I then felt about for the lamp. I located it almost immediately, and swirled it a bit. There was a tiny bit of oil left in it. I relit the lamp with the lighter, or as the Goreans say "fire-maker," from my pouch. It is a standard flint-and-wheel device, with its tiny wick and reservoir. Goreans do not smoke, of course, but, as they commonly use natural flame for cooking and light, they find such a device, and others like it, utilizing springs and pyrites, with cartridges of oil-saturated tinder moss, and such, of great utility. The common sulfur match, on the other hand, so common on Earth, I have never met with on Gor. The chemistry involved in such a device, interestingly enough, is forbidden on Gor. It is regarded as constituting a violation of the Weapons Laws imposed on Goreans by Priest-Kings. This is not as farfetched as it might sound at first. Sulfur, for example, is one of the primary ingredients in the composition of gunpowder.
Merceneries of Gor, page 395

She used a tiny fire maker and set fire to the leaves and twigs. She blew on the small flame, encouraging it.
We could smell cooking fires about. It was near dusk.
"Your plans have not proceeded as you hoped?" she asked.
"I do not complain," I said. "Things might have proceeded better than they have, but they have gone much as I expected they would.
She added sticks to the small flame.
Renegades of Gor, page 149