from a fellow-passenger; and we ask, with augmented interest, what is claimed for this particular point. "In the first place," says our informant, "the Columbia River is the natural channel of commerce for the State of Oregon, as well as the southern border of Washington; for Idaho, and a portion of Montana. Its navigation is unobstructed from this point to the sea, which can not be said of it thirty miles farther up; besides, there are no good town-sites above the entrance of the lower Wallamet. The navigation of the river being easy, and safe for vessels of the largest size up to this point, is one good argument for us."
"Oh," we ejaculate, "you are interested in this place—what do you call it?"
"We call it Columbia City. Our view of the case," continues our informant, "is, that wherever the North Pacific Railroad has its crossing, there the greater portion of the domestic trade of Oregon will centre. The merchants of Eastern Oregon, Idaho, and Montana, in going to purchase goods, will not go by us, to San Francisco, or to the Sound, to purchase, if they can supply themselves just as well here, of which there can be no doubt. Direct importation by sea from New York, Canton, or the Islands, is just as easy here as to San Francisco, and only a few days longer from the first place. It is about two hundred miles nearer to China and Japan than any probable point on the Sound. It has to back it the great, fertile Wallamet Valley, and the country which contains it has fifty miles of river-front."
"All that sounds reasonable enough; but can the Columbia River compete with the Sound in the matter of safety? How is it about the bar?"
"There is not, nor ever has been, any more danger
