“Look!  Look!  The ghost!” suddenly cried Sam, and pointed into the falling water.  “Oh, Uncle Randolph, did you ever see anything like it?” and he gave a shiver.

“There are no such things as ghosts, Sam,” replied his uncle.  “I see nothing.”

“Stand here and look,” answered Sam, and his uncle did as requested.  Presently from out of the mist came the form of a man — the likeness of Randolph Rover himself!

“It is nothing but an optical illusion, Sam, such as are produced by some magicians on the theater stage.  The sun comes down through yonder hole and reflects your image on the wet rock, which in turn reflects the form on the sheet of water.”

“Gracious!  And that must be the ghost the natives believe in,” answered Sam.  “I’m glad you explained it.  I can tell you I was startled.”

“Here is a path leading up past the waterfall,” said Dick, who had been making an investigation.  “Let us see what is beyond.”

“Take care of where you go,” warned Randolph Rover.  “There may be some nasty pitfall there.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” responded Dick.

He ascended the rocks, followed by Sam, while the others brought up in the rear.  Up over the waterfall was another cave, long and narrow.  There was now but little light from overhead, but far in the distance could be seen a long, narrow opening, as if the mountain top had been, by some convulsion of nature, split in half.

“We are coming into the outer world again!” cried Dick, and ran forward.  “Well, I never!” he ejaculated.

For beyond the opening was a small plain, covered with short grass and surrounded on every side by jagged rocks which arose to the height of fifty or sixty feet.  In the center of the plain were a number of native huts, of logs thatched with palm.

CHAPTER XXX

FINDING THE LONG-LOST

“A village!” said Randolph Rover.  “And not a soul in sight.”

“There are several women and children,” returned Tom, pointing to one of the huts.  “I guess the men went away to fight us.”

“Probably you are right, Tom.  Let us investigate, but with caution.”

As they advanced, the women and children set up a cry of alarm, which was quickly taken up in several of the other huts.

“Go away, white men; don’t touch us!” cried one old woman.

“Have the white men come at last?” cried a voice in the purest English.  “Thank God!  Help me!  Help!”

“It is my brother’s voice!” gasped Randolph Rover.  “Anderson!  Anderson!  We have come to save you!”

“Father!” came from the three Rover boys, and they rushed off in all haste toward the nut from which the welcome cry had proceeded.

Anderson Rover was found in the center of the hut, bound fast by a heavy iron chain to a post set deeply into the ground.  His face was haggard and thin and his beard was all of a foot and a half long, while his hair fell thickly over his shoulders.  He was dressed in the merest rags, and had evidently suffered much from starvation and from other cruel treatment.