humiliated by the suggestion that
they voted to make no record of his "silly paper" in their official
minutes. Yet these two men, the American Kelly and the Englishman
Bessemer, were the creators of modern steel. The records of the American
Patent Office clearly show that Kelly made "Bessemer" steel many years
before Bessemer. In 1870 the American Government refused to extend
Bessemer's patent in this country on the ground that William Kelly had
a prior claim; in spite of this, Bessemer was undoubtedly the man
who developed the mechanical details and gave the process a universal
standing.

Though the Bessemer process made possible the production of steel by
tons instead of by pounds, it would never in itself have given the
nation its present preeminence in the steel industry. Iron had been
mined in the United States for two centuries on a small scale, the main
deposits being located in the Lake Champlain region of New York and
in western Pennsylvania. But these, and a hundred other places located
along the Atlantic coast, could not have produced ore in quantities
sufficient to satisfy the yawning jaws of the Bessemer converters. As
this new method poured out the liquid in thousands of tons, and as the
commercial demand extended in a dozen different directions, the cry went
up from the furnace's for more ore. And again Nature, which has favored
America in so many directions, came to her assistance. Manufacturers
in the steel regions began to recall strange stories which had been
floating down for many years from the wilderness surrounding Lake
Superior. The recollection of a famous voyage made in this region by
Philo M. Everett, as far back as 1845, now laid siege to the imagination
of the new generation of ironmasters. For years the Indians had told
Everett of the "mountains of iron" that lay on the Minnesota shore of
Lake Superior and had described their wonders in words that finally
impelled this hardy adventurer to make a voyage of exploration. For six
weeks, in company with two Indian guides, Everett had navigated a small
boat along the shores of the Lake, covering a distance that now takes
only a few hours. The Indians had long regarded this silent, red iron
region with a 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 ey