THE STONE AGE IN OREGON. 533 



the features and style of ornament being much nearer those wonderful oriental 

 relics of antiquity than our Northwestern Indians would be thought capable of. 

 The use of this interesting relic was probably for a grinding bowl, though its 

 .grand, sphynx-like form suggests a nobler use. It is in nearly every case con- 

 jecture, when we speak of the purpose which these ancient vessels were intended 

 to serve. This great curiosity is cut from reddish-gray granite, and would re- 

 quire a block a foot square for its dimensions. Its front is a human face, dis- 

 tinct, dignified, and in some aspects, even grand in outline. It is carved with 

 a skill which could have copied nature, yet there is no point of resemblance be- 

 tween the face and that of any modern Indians. Its brow is broad and low, and 

 the wide curving eyebrows suggest the resemblance to rams' horns which Assyr- 

 ian images have also The nose is almost Grecian, except that the nostrils are 

 wider, and the chin and lower jaw are the reverse of Indian physiognomy. Only 

 the mouth bears any resemblance to our Indian carving. In this feature there is 

 a slight leaning toward the style of some of the Alaska totem faces. On each 

 side above and behind the ear is a protuberance like the fold over the old Egyp- 

 tian statues, and a claw-like arm extends from the edge of the bowl to the side of 

 the throat, its claws being nearly under the chin of the figure. The hair is not 

 cut in detail. It seems to be in a straight mass, without braiding or ornament. 

 The whole head is well proportioned, and is about full-life size. To me this an- 

 cient head has a remarkable fascination and impressiveness. 



The spot where these ancient burials were made is worthy of the sacred use 

 the forgotten nations made of it. As I stood there in the March evening, the 

 wind from the great plain brought the faint desert odor of the sage brush and 

 the rushing sound of the turbulent, swollen Umatilla, singing to itself for very 

 loneliness. Before me the grand, noiseless, but irresistible Columbia spread wide, 

 golden in the fiery sunset, and roUing silently and mightily, with boiling, writh- 

 ing whirls upon its gleaming bosom into the very gate of heaven, it seemed ; for 

 at the western horizon where it is lost to view it is a score of miles from the Uma- 

 tilla, and the low hills are lost in the brightness of the grand sunset light which 

 meets the river at the horizon's verge, and is so wondrously reflected upon its 

 level tide that heaven and earth seem one. — Oregon and Washingion Farmer. 



