VEVI had hoped to return soon to Cabell’s pond to search for Clover.

However, she had no chance to do so the next day, for Miss Gordon told the Brownie Scouts they were to have an outing at Brant’s Point.

“We’ll picnic there and gather shells for our collection,” she outlined plans. “Vevi will have a chance too to give her bird report.”

Vevi said nothing, but she felt rather queer inside. She had been too busy to give the required report a single thought.

“I’ll bet Vevi won’t have one ready!” teased Jane.

“Oh, yes, I will,” Vevi insisted. “Just you wait and see.”

After the breakfast dishes had been washed and the beds made, the girls all piled into Mrs. William’s big sedan. The tide was low, so it was possible to drive along the beach without the tires sinking in.

Before long, the Brownies sighted the tall lighthouse directly ahead. Often at night the girls had observed its revolving ray blink on and off.

“Brant’s Point light has saved many a ship at sea,” Miss Gordon told the troop. “And the lives of countless birds.”

Rosemary asked her how a lighthouse could save birds.

“Some of the older lighthouses have beacons that burn steadily,” Miss Gordon explained. “Such a light always seems to attract birds. Some circle the light towers until from sheer exhaustion they drop into the sea. Others fly against the windows and batter their wings.”

The teacher went on to say that birds were much less likely to be attracted by Brant Light, which blinked off at intervals. Also, the tower had projections or shelves where a tired bird might rest in its long flight southward.

“May we visit the lighthouse?” Connie asked as the girls unloaded the lunch hampers at the point.

“Federal regulations prohibit visitors,” the teacher replied regretfully. “Anyhow, we’ll not have too much time here. After we’ve had our lunch and gathered a few shells, it will be time to leave.”

Mrs. Williams remarked that they must under no circumstance over-stay their time. “I’ve been told that the tide comes in very strong and fast here by the lighthouse,” she said. “By late afternoon, this beach will be almost entirely covered with water.”

“Is it safe to be here?” asked Sunny anxiously.

Mrs. Williams assured her that it always would be possible to scamper to higher ground.

“But if we should stay too long, my car might be trapped,” she explained, “for there is no roadway out. We’ll leave very soon. Then there will be no danger.”

The Brownies helped unload the lunch baskets and set the table with paper plates. Then, with Miss Gordon’s permission, they peeled off shoes and stockings and started to look for shells.

“Don’t wade far out into the water,” the teacher warned. “The surf is strong here now that the tide has turned. There’s a tricky undertow.”

Waves came in with a great roar, nibbling greedily at the sand. The Brownies had no desire to wade out more than a few feet.

“See what I’ve found!” cried Connie. She held up a very attractive shell with a half-moon opening. “It’s not like the others we have.”

When she showed it to Miss Gordon, the teacher told her that it was a moon snail shell.

The Brownies never had seen the waves bring up so many nice shells. Soon Jane dug up a yellowish-white whelk marked by spiral ribs. The other girls found unbroken clam shells and a brown one which not even Miss Gordon could identify.

After the Brownies had wearied of searching, Miss Gordon and Mrs. Williams set out the food.

“It will soon be time for Vevi’s bird report,” Jane reminded the group. “I’ll bet she doesn’t have it ready.”

Vevi pretended not to hear. She had boasted that she would be able to tell about a special bird. Actually, the only ones she had seen were those on which the other girls already had reported.

She ate her sandwich very fast. While the others were finishing their cake, she slipped off behind one of the sand dunes. Vevi thought she would walk toward the lighthouse. Perhaps she would see a special sea bird on which she could report. But if not, she would be so late in getting back that Miss Gordon and the Brownies might decide to postpone asking for her talk. Meanwhile, Miss Gordon began to tell the Brownies about some of the strange habits of birds. She said no one knew why they migrated from one part of the country to another, or how they found their way.

“Year after year they’ll return to the same place, often the same nest,” she declared. “A bird is guided by keen eyesight, but also apparently by instinct.”

Miss Gordon advised the girls to observe birds carefully, taking note of points that would help in making an identification.

“Always notice a bird’s size,” she instructed. “Remember that male and female birds vary in color and marking. Notice wing motion too and whether the bird walks, runs or hops on the ground.”

By this time waves were breaking higher and higher on the beach. Mrs. Williams remarked uneasily that the tide seemed to be coming in faster than she had expected.

“Perhaps we should start back to the cottages,” she suggested.

As the girls began to gather up their belongings, Miss Gordon noticed Vevi’s absence.

“Now where has she gone?” she inquired. “She was here only a moment ago.” “She went off so she wouldn’t have to give her bird report,” Jane declared. “I see her wandering around over there behind the lighthouse.”

“I’ll go after her,” offered Connie.

“Call to her instead,” advised Mrs. Williams. “We really have no time to waste.”

Connie shouted Vevi’s name several times. “Hurry up!” she yelled. “The tide is rolling in, and we want to start home.”

“Coming,” Vevi answered.

Despite the urging to hurry however, she kept loitering by a large sand dune. She seemed to be examining something she had found there.

“That old slow poke!” Jane exclaimed. “I’ll get her!”

“No, she’s coming now,” Mrs. Williams said. “I want everyone to stay here. Gather up everything and bring it to the car.”

Connie’s mother regretted now that she had not turned her car around before parking it on the sand.

She had not realized that the hard, firm beach which had provided her with a safe roadway could disappear so fast.

Although ample space remained along shore for the return drive, not much area was left in which to turn the car around.

“I’m going ahead to move the car,” Mrs. Williams said.

Connie and Sunny went along with her. When they reached the car they noticed that the larger waves were breaking only a short distance from the rear car wheels.

“Oh, the tide is coming in so fast!” Connie exclaimed. “Will we make it, Mother?”

“We’ll be all right once we turn around,” Mrs. Williams replied. She was more worried though, than she cared to have the children know.

Quickly she started the car and swung the steering wheel. The automobile moved slightly uphill into loose sand.

Now Mrs. Williams had not intended to swing in such a wide arc. Nor had she realized that the sand was quite so soft.

Slower and slower crept the car, its engine laboring.

“Keep going, Mother!” shouted Connie. She could see that the auto was about ready to stop in the deep sand.

Mrs. Williams shifted into another gear, but the car would not pull. With a gasping chug, it came to a standstill. The rear wheels kept spinning, but there was no traction.

The car would not budge. They were stuck fast in the sand with the tide rolling in!