superstitious reverence, and now, as the little party approached,
they refused to complete the journey. "Iron Mountain!" they said,
pointing northward along the trail--"Indian not go near; white
man go!" The sight which presently met Everett's eyes repaid him
well for his solitary tramp in the forest. He found himself face
to face with a "mountain a hundred and fifty feet high, of solid
ore, which looked as bright as a bar of iron just broken." Other
explorations subsequently laid open the whole of the Minnesota
fields, including the Mesaba, which developed into the world's
greatest iron range. America has other regions rich in ore,
particularly in Alabama, located alongside the coal and limestone
so necessary in steel production; yet it has drawn two-thirds of
its whole supply from these Lake Superior fields. Not only the
quantity, which is apparently limitless, but the quality explains
America's leadership in steel making.

Mining in Minnesota has a character which is not duplicated
elsewhere. When we think of an iron mine, we naturally picture
subterranean caverns and galleries, and strange, gnome-like
creatures prowling about with pick and shovel and drill. But
mining in this section is a much simpler proceeding. The precious
mineral does not lie concealed deep within the earth; it lies
practically upon the surface. Removing it is not a question of
blasting with dynamite; it is merely a matter of lifting it from
the surface of the earth with a huge steam shovel. "Miners" in
Minnesota have none of the conventional aspects of their trade.
They operate precisely as did those who dug the Panama Canal. The
railroad cars run closely to the gigantic red pit. A huge steam
shovel opens its jaws, descends into an open amphitheater, licks
up five tons at each mouthful, and, swinging sideways over the