the hour of twelve
To this cabin came the Nanatalmutes from the east , and the Kogmollocks from the west , bartering their furs and whalebone and seal-oil for the things Blake gave in exchange , and adding women to their wares whenever Blake announced a demand . The demand had been excellent this winter . Over in Darnley Bay , thirty miles across the headland , was the whaler Harpoon frozen up for the winter with a crew of thirty men , and straight out from the face of his igloo cabin , less than a mile away , was the Flying Moon with a crew of twenty more . It was Blake 's business to wait and watch like a hawk for such opportunities as there , and tonight -- his watch pointed to the hour of twelve , midnight -- he was sitting in the light of a sputtering seal-oil lamp adding up figures which told him that his winter , only half gone , had already been an enormously profitable one . `` If the Mounted Police over at Herschel only knew , '' he chuckled . `` Uppy , if they did , they 'd have an outfit after us in twenty-four hours . '' Oopi , his Eskimo right-hand man , had learned to understand English , and he nodded , his moon-face split by a wide and enigmatic grin .