Northwest! by Harold Bindloss

Day broke drearily across the clearing. Mist rolled about the dark pines and when the wind got stronger the dark branches tossed. The loghouse was cold and trooper Simpson, turning over on the hard boards, shivered. Then he remarked that although the pit-lamp had gone out the room was not dark and he was dully conscious that he had slept longer than he ought. After a few moments, his glance rested on an object covered by blankets at the other end of the room and he got up with a jerk.

His head hurt and he was dizzy. He now remembered that he had run against a stump and fallen into the ditch; but he must brace up and with something of an effort he crossed the floor. So far as he could see, the warden's eyes were shut and his face was pinched. All the same, Simpson thought he breathed and when he touched him his skin was not cold.