"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.
"My sons!" he gasped, as the boys appeared. "Do I see aright, or is it only another of those wild dreams that have entered my brain lately?"
"Father; poor father!" burst out Dick, and hugged his parent around the neck.
"It's no dream, father; we are really here," put in Tom, as he caught one of the slender hands, while Sam caught the other.