As the afternoon waned the air grew hotter and stiller, while a great cloud gathered on the horizon.
"There will be thunder at sundown," said Leonard aloud; "I wish that Otter would come back, so that we might get the funeral over; otherwise we shall have to wait till to-morrow." At length, about half an hour before nightfall, the dwarf appeared at the mouth of the cave, looking more like a gnome than a man against the lurid background of the angry sky.

A buck was tied across his enormous shoulders, and in his hand he held a large bunch of the fragrant mountain lilies.
Then the two of them buried Thomas Outram, there in his lonely grave which he himself had dug by the gully, and the roll of the thunder was his requiem.

It seemed a fitting termination to his stormy and laborious life..