Whatcom Wakes Up, and Every Town Wants the Railroad

It was but natural that there should be a state of feverish excitement over the coming railroad, now that its arrival is so near at hand. The favorable points of every place are enlarged by its friends and disparaged by its enemies, while the converse is true of its obstacles. Seattle has, by all odds, the inside so far as business is concerned at present, while Tacoma points with pride to her terminal hopes, her railroad hotel for $100,000, her railroad maps and her Memorial Church. Anacortes reviews her long-slumbering hopes, based upon a complete, commodious harbor nearest the Strait, an easy approach to the mainland and mysterious rise of real estate.

Whatcom shakes off death's counterfeit after a sleep of thirteen years, rises like magic from her level, fertile, well located lands, and cozy cabins take the place of thriving fir trees, lots double, streets appear, and what will become of Whatcom remains an enigma depending for its answer upon the movement of railroads and the growth of the surrounding country.

The wonderful fertility of the Nooksack country, which for 25 miles about Whatcom has been taken up within the last three months, is the surest lease on the future. But alongside of this are stories of a railroad from Seattle to Whatcom, not at all an improbability, and the rumor of a straight line from Spokane to Whatcom via Skagit Pass. Again, British Columbia is rapidly developing a new center about its railroad terminus at Port Moody, and a corporation has already filed articles for a road thence to Whatcom, binding Victoria and Uncle Sam in cordial iron bonds. Coupeville has its bid in for a terminus, and if the railroad picks "the great unknown" for its own diversion and money making there will be disappointments on every hand.

Barely Whatcom has made good progress for a single summer, after waiting 13 years for its hay season. Lots have doubled since May. A wharf has started from deep water and is making good progress for the town one mile away, with good prospect of reaching its destination. Probably 100 buildings have been erected, a paper started, several stores opened, and Whatcom will soon be a reality of 2000 people.

Just round the corner of the bay lies Sehome, the old landing place a little unsafe from the coal mines improperly stayed beneath, while two miles further down Bellingham has built a hotel, run out a wharf, and sold one half its lots, confident of being the town; and still another quarter of a mile Fairhaven boasts its peculiar sheltered position and deep water. Bellingham Bay looks a little large for a harbor but it never gets rough, "hardly ever," except when a northeaster comes down upon it without mercy.

The entire Nooksack valley, it is claimed, has been taken since March. Of course Seattle will have the terminus. She feels easy just now over having the road in September. Lots go up, up, up. Croakers say it will turn bye and bye, but there seems to be a rising tide and business is flush, and coal rolls in 1000 tons per day; never ceasing its rattle as it rushes into the huge holds of our ships.

Tacoma sees no other terminus. It grows like a pumpkin vine running all over the hills. There are three boats every day between Tacoma and Seattle, $1 each way, and all well patronized.

The whole country is on full tide, and when the connecting link is closed in, Washington will boom from end to end, as never before. — D. J. Peirce.