“Of course,” Phil exclaimed, “the war is all a put up job. I would, if I were able, indict for manslaughter every one of those responsible for this rebellion or who selfishly refused to avert it lawfully. It made me absolutely sick to see those ghastly heads on poles and know that for every one a life had been sacrificed to satisfy the selfishness of white men.” “Some one,” Alice said reverently, “will have to account for those deaths before the great tribunal some day.” They saw Mr. Carlson bow formally and leave the consulate. “It didn’t take long,” Sydney said as they watched him go, mopping his perspiring face as he passed through the gate and turned toward the town. “Do you know,” Alice said thoughtfully, “he is a very kind-hearted soul. I feel very sorry for him, because he is now shouldering the bad deeds of others.” This short meeting of the consuls brought a temporary stability to affairs in Kapua. The three consuls now formally recognized the “de facto” government nominally under Kataafa. The count was to be the prime minister; adviser to the king. Judge Lindsay was to again occupy, if he would, the office of chief justice. The deposed King Panu-Mafili and his chiefs, if they would go to Kulinuu, and humble themselves before Kataafa, were to be permitted ashore, otherwise they must remain in the war-ships. This all the loyal chiefs refused to do, and for their safety the war-ships were forced to keep them on board. The next day Kataafa was formally crowned at Kulinuu, but no salute was fired in his honor. The morning after the coronation the midshipmen and Alice watched their sailors gather up their belongings and return on board their ship. “They’ll be ashore again before very long,” Phil prophesied. “The ‘Sacramento,’ one of our big cruisers, will be on the way here with an American admiral on board. I have an idea that he will not be content to see the islands get away from us without an argument.” The town of Ukula was a sorry sight. Many valuable native houses were in utter ruin. Many stores owned by the white men had been looted. Empty cans were scattered about everywhere. Those canned delicacies of meats, soups and vegetables, much prized by the natives, had been consumed or carried away. Tin goods in Kapua went by the name of “peasoupee,” because the first cargo of tinned goods ever received in the islands was of the pea-soup variety. Armed natives were encountered on every hand, but their faces were no longer blackened, and the savage ecstasy of war had partially subsided. Phil stopped a smiling native and asked him by signs to allow him to inspect his gun. Alice spoke his own language to him, and the warrior proudly gave his cherished belonging into Phil’s hands. “It’s a brand new ‘Snyder,’” Sydney said as they both handled it; “but look, he has taken off the sight. Thinks it’s a useless ornament.”