Within a few yards of the top I happened unconsciously to look down. The effect produced by the sight of the yawning gulf beneath me was terrifying: a giddiness came over me, my knees began to tremble, and had I not managed to turn and clutch frantically at a projecting piece of rock I should have lost my balance and fallen over. I shut my eyes and held on for a few minutes, not daring to stir; then, with a strong effort of will, I pulled myself together sufficiently to edge along with my face to the rock and grasp hold of some barbed wire outside the opening leading into the fort; then, of course, I was safe. Almost needless to add that when I got inside I did not relate my perilous experience. You are not supposed to be subject to vertigo when you tackle mountain climbing; it might prove awkward for your comrades. A wonderful spectacle confronted me as I looked round. The Forcola is nearly 10,000 feet high, and here, right on the summit, was a veritable citadel in course of construction, with armoured trenches, sandbag emplacements for big guns, barbed-wire entanglements; in fact, everything that modern military science can contrive to insure impregnability. The whole place was teeming with activity, and looked like a gigantic ant-heap; on all sides soldiers were to be seen at work, and it was evident that those in charge of this important position were determined to leave nothing to luck. The little that nature had left unprotected was being made good by the untiring efforts and genius of the Italians, and the Austrian chances of ever capturing the place are practically _nil_. Its curious configuration largely contributes to its impregnability and power of resistance if ever besieged. Behind its line of armoured trenches is a deep hollow, which could shelter an army corps if necessary; and here, under complete cover, are well-built, barrack-like buildings, in which the troops can be comfortably quartered during the long winter months when the fort is buried under yards of snow and practically isolated from the outer world. [Illustration: As he whirled past in the big car (_see page 50_) _To face page 88_] The position on the Forcola is probably unique in the world, as it is situated exactly at a point where three frontiers meet: the Italian, Austrian and Swiss. From its sandbag ramparts on the front facing the Austrians one has the most sublime vista of mountain scenery it would be possible to conceive. It is impossible in mere words to attempt to convey anything but the faintest impression of it, yet it would be a sin of omission not to endeavour to. As I gazed in front of me, the marvellous beauty of the scene held me in rapt suspense, and for a few moments the war passed from my mind.