Clouds had obscured the moon, and distant thunder rolled along the sky; and, roused by the clamorous grief of the many women assembled in the lodge, she heard from them of the dark tragedy in which she had been the principal actor.
The murderer was not to be found.

Red Deer was known to be far away.

It only remained to bury Cloudy Sky, with all the honors due to a medicine man.
Harpstenah joined in the weeping of the mourners--the fountains of a Sioux woman's tears are easily unlocked.

She threw her blanket upon the dead body.
Many were the rich presents made to the inanimate clay which yesterday influenced those who still trembled lest the spirit of the dead war-chief would haunt them.

The richest cloth enrobed his body, and, a short distance from the village, he was placed upon a scaffold.
Food was placed beside him; it would be long before his soul would reach the city of spirits; his strength would fail him, were it not for the refreshment of the tender flesh of the wild deer he had loved to chase, and the cooling waters he had drank on earth, for many, many winters.
But after the death of Cloudy Sky, the heart of Harpstenah grew light.
She joined again in the ball plays on the prairies.