f its body is that of a man, although its skin is seamed all
over with short vertical lines meant to indicate hairs. One arm is raised
and the other lowered, like those of the genii in the second division. His
tail is upturned, his feet are those of a bird, and his wings show over his
left shoulder. On the whole, the resemblance between this figure and the
nondescript beast on the obverse of the plaque is so great that we are
tempted to think that they both represent the same being.

Upon the river and in the centre of this division a scene is going forward
that takes up more than a third of the whole field. It is no doubt the main
subject. A small boat glides down the stream, its poop adorned with the
head of a quadruped, its prow with that of a bird. In this boat there is a
horse, seen in profile and with its right fore leg bent at the knee. The
attitude of this animal, which seems born down by a crushing weight, is to
be explained by the rest of the composition. The poor quadruped bears on
his back, in fact, the body of a gigantic and formidable divinity, who
makes use of him not in the orthodox fashion but merely as a kind of
pedestal; his or rather her right knee rests upon the horse's back while
her left foot--which is that of a bird-of-prey--grasps the animal's head.
The legs of this strange monster are human, and so is her body, but here,
as in the personage walking by the river side, we find the short scratches
that denote hair; her head is that of a lioness. For although her sex may
appear doubtful to some it is difficult to explain the action of the two
lion-cubs that spring towards her breasts otherwise than by M.
Clermont-Ganneau's supposition that they are eager for nourishment.

The bosom attacked by the two cubs is seen from in front, but the head
above it is in profile, and so high that it rises above the line that
divides this lower division from the one immediately above it. The jaws are
open, that is to say they grin in harmony with those of the monster looking
over the top of the plaque, with the genii of the third division and that
of the river bank. All this, however, was insufficient to satisfy the
artist's desire for a terror-striking effect, and in each hand of the
goddess he has placed a long serpent which hangs vertically downwards, and
shows by its curves that it is struggling in her grip. Between the limbs of
the goddess and the horse's mane there is something that bears a vague
resemblance