"So far from any coast, we thought it was a ghost, And lowers a boat to see what it might be, Where on its mother's breast a little one did rest, The mother dead--the babe alive and well!"

"Oh, just like Kitty's story," interrupted Cleo in spite of orders.

"Certainly, that's the reason I'm suffering so to tell it," admitted Margaret.

"Does the song say what they did with the little one?" asked Julia, always intensely sympathetic.

"Yes, listen," again ordered Margaret. "The story tells:

"Now we're a rough old set, some are fathers, don't forget,"

"But--but I can't think of that line, I should have told you 'Our skipper seized the boy, and kisses him with joy----'"

This was almost the end for Margaret, if not the end of the song, for they all seized the girl and smothered her with kisses.

"But it was a lovely story, Margy, if bald in spots," commented Cleo.

"What's the chorus?"

Again Margaret started, this time in tune:

"Singing eylie--heevie ho!

Eylie heevie ho!

Send the wheel around say we!

While gayly blows the breeze, That takes us o'er the seas!

Singing eylie, heevie, eylie heevie ho!"

"Hurrah! Hurray! Hurroo!" called Louise. "That's all right for a sea story, Margaret, and we'll have to make a line of it in our Log. But poor little Kitty didn't fare so well. See it was a boy, 'they kissed him with joy,'" she explained. "Being a girl poor Kitty was just dumped."

"Oh, yes, one more line," persisted Margaret:

"Then we names him Little Jack, and kissing he don't lack!"

Needless to say what happened to Margaret at that!

Then, to give the Westbrook girls the full benefit of their information, the story of Kitty was told in detail, and even these young ladies confessed to a keen interest in the mystery of Luna Land.

"We must make a landing, and spend an hour in the woods before returning," suggested Eugenia as they skirted the shore.

"There's a beautiful rocky point, Mae. We can easily sail in the cove, and let the girls scamper around there."

And this was the plan immediately decided upon.

CHAPTER XV

STRANDED

TIME flew as the girls scampered over rocks, slid down sandy slopes, and otherwise "explored" the picturesque retreat.

No accident marred the afternoon, beyond the unexpected slide of Cleo, who, venturing too near the edge, came down to the water's brink by way of a sliding, sandy trail.

Everybody had been in wading, choosing a shallow pool that trickled in from the bay and hid behind a wall of sand, now plainly marked, as the tide was receding.

"Come, girls, we must be moving," warned Mae, "a sail boat depends on wind and tide for safe navigation."

Reluctantly they left the sand, for this strip of rocky woods was attractive to the point of positive fascination.

With a friendly breeze they were soon under full sail again, and the voyage home promised too prompt an ending to their day's sport. They would have prolonged it.

"Couldn't we sail in and out that group of islands?" asked Grace, reluctant to reach port too early.

"We might," agreed Mae, "if we were sure to be safe from sand bars."

"Water's splendidly deep," her sister at the tiller assured her. "We may as well let the girls see all the sights."

Accordingly, the Blowell was directed toward the islands, that seemed like mere splashes of green, spilled on the blue water.

In and out they went in apparent safety, every one enjoying the close land sailing, and the glimpses of varied woodlands these little islands exhibited.

"Tide's going out fast," called Mae, as the sail swung north.

Eugenia did not reply. She thought she felt something scrape.

A grinding sound assured her, she _had_ heard scraping--and she knew the feel of sand.

They stopped like a canoe running out of the waves!

"Sand bar!" shouted Mae, but none of the girls knew just what that meant.

Opening the sail, clear of every reef, Mae tried to get off the bar, and Eugenia urged the tiller to try one spot, then another; but the Blowell stood still, and defied the breeze or water to move her.

"Can't we go?" asked Cleo, just beginning to realize their predicament.

"Not unless we are lifted," replied Mae gloomily.

"Do you mean to tell us we are stuck?" asked Louise.