One of the attendant girls then arose with “hipu”[19] in hand. She held the cocoanut shell cup over the bowl, while Avao squeezed the liquid into it from the strainer. The midshipmen were amazed at the charm and grace in every movement. Each time the strainer was squeezed the cup bearer swung the cup in a circle. She then faced about and, with the cup held at the level of her dainty chin, directed her dark eyes toward Phil. “I’m it,” he groaned. Alice, bubbling over with mischief, exclaimed: “A cup of kava for Mr. Perry.” The next second the cup of greenish liquid, after a graceful underhand curve, as the girl bent her knees, was held before the disconsolate lad. “Cheer up,” Sydney exclaimed. “Hold your nose and shut your eyes and she’ll give you something to make you wise.” Phil took the cup gingerly. To his horror it was nearly full to the brim. “Must I drink it all?” he asked Alice nervously. “If you don’t, I am afraid Avao will look for another ‘felinge,’” she replied teasingly. “Count for me, Syd,” Phil said, “and when you see the folks at home, say I died game.” He calmly swallowed the contents without drawing breath, and handed the cup back to the girl. “Thanks awfully, no more just now,” he said laughing, happy the ordeal was over. “What’s it like?” Sydney asked. “More like drinking slate pencils than anything else I can imagine.” Sydney drank his, shuddering slightly at the bitter taste. All the others, including Alice, drank as if they thoroughly enjoyed it. “You get accustomed to it,” Alice explained. “The Kapuans drink it as we do coffee or tea.” After kava was over the lads found that native ponies had been provided by Avao, and within a half hour the cavalcade started. A dozen or more of Kapuan men brought up the rear on foot, carrying many kinds of fruit and edibles wrapped in banana leaves. Alice and Avao led the procession, while the midshipmen came next. They trotted along a sylvan path for about a mile, then in single file through the wet “bush.” “It was lucky for us we happened along,” Phil said to Alice as they halted to admire a great banyan tree close to the path. “It was only by accident I am here, too,” she answered. “Tuamana, Avao’s father, and all the chiefs loyal to Panu, are in council at the ‘Jumping Rock.’ The girls are taking their feast to them.” “Oh!” Phil exclaimed. “Maybe they will not be glad to see us.” “The Kapuan is always delighted to have papalangi at his feasts,” Alice assured him; “especially as they know the Americans are very friendly to Panu’s claim to the throne. The Kataafa chiefs might not be so cordial if we dropped in on them.”