The Doomsman

The Doomsman
by Van Tassel Sutphen
AUTHOR OF "THE CARDINAL'S ROSE" "THE GATES OF
CHANCE" ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
MCMVI
Copyright, 1905, 1906, by THE METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE
COMPANY.
Copyright, 1906, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
All rights reserved.
Published June, 1906

THE DOOMSMAN

I
THE VERMILION FEATHER
A beach of yellow sand and a stranded log upon which sat a boy
looking steadfastly out upon the shining waters.

It was a delicious morning in early May, and the sun was at his back,
its warm rays falling upon him with affectionate caress. But the lad was
plainly oblivious of his immediate surroundings; in spirit he had
followed the leading of his eyes a league or more to the westward,
where a mass of indefinable shadow bulked hugely upon the horizon
line. Indefinable, in that it was neither forest nor mountain nor yet an
atmospheric illusion produced by the presence of watery vapor. It did
not change in density as does the true cloud; for all of its mistiness of
outline there was an impression of solidity about its deeper shadows,
something that the wind could not lift nor the light pierce. A mystery,
and the boy devoured it with his eyes, his head bent forward and his
shoulders held tensely.
The place was a rocky point of land jutting forth into a reef-strewn
tideway. The forest came down close to the strip of beach, but there
was comparatively little underwood, and the grass, growing up to the
very roots of the trees, gave to the glade an appearance almost parklike.
There was no house in sight, not even the thin, blue curl of a smoking
hearth to proclaim the neighborhood of man. Yet the sign of human
handicraft was not wholly wanting; through the tree trunks, at perhaps a
hundred yards away, appeared the line of a timber stockade--enormous
palisades, composed of twelve-foot ash and hickory poles, set in a
double row and bound together by lengths of copper wire. It was to be
further observed that the timbers had been stripped of their bark and the
knots smoothed down so as to afford no coigne of vantage to even a
naked foot. Add, again, that the poles had been charred and sharpened
at the top, and it will be understood that the barrier was a formidable
one against any assault short of artillery.
There was no beaten road or path near the line of palisades, but,
following the curving of the shore, a forest track, already green with the
young grass that was pushing its way through last year's stubble,
stretched away to the north and south. It was hardly more than a
runway for the deer and wild cattle, but it did not give one the
impression of having been originally plotted out by these creatures,
after the immemorial fashion of their kind. An animal does not lay out
his road in sections of perfectly straight lines connected by

mathematical curves, neither does he fill up gullies nor cut through hills,
when it is so easy to go around these obstructions.
The boy, who sat and dreamed at the water's edge, was in his
eighteenth year or thereabouts, slenderly proportioned, and with
well-cut features. The delicately moulded chin, the sensitive
nostril--these are the signs of the poet, the dreamer, rather than of the
man of action. And yet the face was not altogether deficient in
indications of strength. That heavy line of eyebrow should mean
something, as also the free up-fling of the head when he sat erect; the
final impression was of immaturity of character rather than of the lack
of it. From the merely superficial standpoint, it may be added that he
had brown eyes and hair (the latter being cut square across his forehead
and falling to his shoulders), a good mouth containing the whitest of
teeth, and a naturally light complexion that was already beginning to
accumulate its summer's coat of tan.
He was dressed in a tunic or smock of brown linen, gathered at the
waist by a belt of greenish leather, with a buckle that shone like gold.
His knees were bare, but around his legs were wound spiral bands of
soft-dressed deer-hide. Buskins, secured by thongs of red leather and
soled with moose-hide, to prevent slipping, covered his feet, while his
head-dress consisted of a simple band of thin gold, worn fillet-wise.
This last, being purely ornamental, was doubtless a token of gentle
birth or of an assured social station. A short fur coat, made from the
pelt of the much-prized forest cat, lay in a careless heap at the boy's
feet. It had felt comfortable enough in the still keenness of the early
morning hour, but now that the sun was well up in the