To digress a little from the subject, I must say something of the fertility of the place by referring back to my journal of the 15th of June. After a long day's march, we crossed the Ebro at Puenteareñas and bivouacked near the village named Areñas. The river narrowed, but very rapid. Swam the river with some of my friends. This fertile valley is called Villacayo. The scenery on the banks of the river was sublime, novel, and picturesque. On every side, rugged and steep mountains. Plenty of wine, fruits, and vegetables. This manœuvre of our great Commander, which the enemy had not calculated upon, put _Johnny_ into much confusion. Our army now was daily concentrating, and at the same time moving upon Vitoria. On the 18th of June our Division made a rapid march to intercept a body of the enemy, and came pounce upon a Division. Our 1st and 3rd Battalions were ordered to march over some very steep hills covered with trees to attack them in the rear, at the same time sending two of our companies just to amuse them in the front, and with orders not to press upon the town until we fell upon the rear. Poor Joe had recently had the ague and looked delicate. This morning, however, he felt a stomach for the fight. I told him to keep at my side and he would see what fine bloodhounds Rifle Men were. We soon gained the spot, and rushed upon them furiously, and though they gave us several discharges from a good-formed line, they were so staggered that one Brigade ran into the mountains, while the other retreated, throwing away everything. We chased them through several villages, in which they usually made a stand, to the no small terror of the inhabitants, as it astonished peaceable people to have the balls whistling about their ears. Our men were their own commissaries this day, having taken plenty of white bread and bacon. Being very hungry, I fed lustily. Joe could not partake of the repast, though he felt pleased with the day's amusement.