Going on a little farther, he found himself at the end of the singular zigzag passage, which was an opening in the roof of another and larger cavern, and into which they looked down as from a window.
It was lighter and loftier than their own, and, like it, beautifully carpeted with sand; but, to the amazement of the lads, instead of this being smooth and wind-swept, as that of their own place when they first discovered it, the floor was covered with footmarks leading from the mouth inward to where the great cave grew dim and obscure.

There were sails, too, and ropes.

Several small yards and spars lay together by the side of the wall, and farther in were sails and three or four oars.
But what most took their attention was the fact that, dimly outlined in the higher part of the cave there were little stacks, which looked as if they were built up of packages or bales, side by side with which, carefully stacked in the sand, were dozens upon dozens of small kegs.
As their eyes grew more familiar with the gloom at the upper end, they realised that there were a great number of these bales and kegs, the former being of three kinds, varying a good deal in shape and size.
They neither of them spoke, not daring even to whisper, for the feeling was strong upon them that the next thing they would see must be the figure of some fierce-looking smuggler in big boots, belted, carrying cutlass and pistols, and crowned with a scarlet cap.
Then they started back in alarm, for there was the sharp whirring of wings, and half a dozen pigeons darted out of the cavern, seeming to come from far back beyond the stacks of kegs and bales, and rushing out into the bright light beneath the arch.
It was nothing to mind; but their nerves were on the strain, and they breathed more freely as soon as the birds were gone.

It seemed to signify that no human beings were in the higher part of the cavern, and the solemn silence of the place encouraged them at last to speak, but only in whispers.
"Wish we'd brought the rope," said Vince; "we might have got down." "Ugh! It wouldn't be safe.

They might come and catch us." "Who might ?" "The smugglers." "Smugglers?
There are no smugglers on the Crag." "Well, those must be smuggled goods, anyhow," said Mike.
"Can't be." "What are they, then?
I'll be bound to say that those little kegs have all got `Hollands' or French spirits in them, and the packages are silk and velvet, and the other parcels laces and things--perhaps tobacco." "But we never heard of smuggling here.