 The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America, tonight's star, Dane Clarke. I can see it now as I saw it the first time. A humpbacked purple silhouette squatting on the horizon. Eerie, ominous, foreboding, the big mountain. Tonight, our DuPont Cavalcade brings you a suspense drama of adventure and discovery set in the jungle heart of Venezuela. Our star, Dane Clarke, has Ronnie Latham. We're the guys who slogged our way through snake-infested jungles. We're the guys who laughed at native superstitions, who hacked our way through a wilderness to come up with the greatest mineral discovery of our time. But let's face facts, let's face them. Nothing we did could have been done without the backing of a group of men who never got within 3,000 miles of the big mountain. Never saw it, never knew it existed. You want to know where an adventure story like ours begins? The last place in the world you'd ever look. The boardroom of the United States Steel Corporation in Pittsburgh, half a dozen years ago. A quiet room, a group of quiet men listening to a report by J. G. Munson, vice president in charge of raw materials. Gentlemen, we face critical situation, and we'd be criminal to blind ourselves to the facts. At the present rate of peacetime steel consumption, the country's current reserve of good quality iron ore in the Lake Superior District will be used up in 20 years. This nation has built itself for 50 years out of that misabi iron ore range, and it's reaching the bottom of the barrel. So they estimate 20 years. If America should become involved in another war, it would take even less. Well, you've given us the facts, Munson. Pretty brutal facts, we all agree. What are your proposals? Find high-quality iron ore. The country needs it. Find it fast, anywhere, any place. Search for high-grade ore. Not just another survey with a few field operations here and there, but the biggest, most comprehensive ore search in history. Uh, what will it cost, Mr. Munson? In the way of answering that question, it'll probably cost millions. Uh, may turn up nothing. That's right. But we have the resources, the finances, the know-how to conduct an operation as extensive as this. So it's a gamble we must take. I repeat that. We must take. United States Steel must take. It began in 1946. Hundreds of men in a dozen different lands scouring the world for iron. Reports flying into Pittsburgh from Quebec, from Tunisia, British Columbia, from Sweden, Guatemala, Africa, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Brazil, Newfoundland. And the answer on most of those reports? Negative. No good. Nothing of value. But one report. One report really showed promise. Chief of the field forces in Venezuela was Mac Lake. He grabbed the plane in Caracas and was in Pittsburgh 14 hours later to talk to Munson and his associates. Here's the situation, Mr. Munson. We know there's iron ore in Venezuela. Plenty of it. We've found some pretty good locations, but we're sure that the pay dirt hasn't been found yet. The mountain ridges on which all the major iron ore deposits have been found so far twist back and forth east and west right through the heart of the deepest, thickest tropical jungle. It's practically impossible to survey it by foot. It would take years. Too many years. Oh, what do you propose, Mac? An aerial survey of the whole region. That'll be a mighty expensive operation. It'll cost plenty. We're in this up to our hip boots as it stands, Mac. There's no turning back. Order the survey. By January 1947, the air survey was in full swing. I came into the picture just about then, fresh out of engineering school. The ink on my diploma's still wet. Our field headquarters was set up in Ciudad Boliva, a little stew pot of a city on the banks of the Orinoco. I remember the hours we spent huddled over the strips of air photos. Foka Kielstedt, Cabarel, Jose Inieto and myself tracing the mountain ridges as they twisted back and forth south of the Orinoco, east of the Caroni River. Then on the photos, we saw the iron pock mountain range suddenly run westward. We traced it as across the Caroni River and headed like an arrow toward a group of high cliffed hills that rose some 2,000 feet above the surrounding Sibana. Cabarel called over to Jose. Jose, Manda, Sr., what do they call this place? Where, Sr.? Here. Does it have a name? Ah, I see. That is what the natives call the Big Mountain. It is named the Cerro Boliva. Cerro Boliva, the Big Mountain. Everything about it seemed right. Every scrap of evidence we could pick up from the air photos seemed to say, this was it. This might be the payoff. The decision was made quickly with no arguments. There's no use waiting. Taking any chances on waiting. We'll take the Jeep and head out for the Big Mountain at dawn. Our Jeep gave up the ghost a few miles out of La Perida. So we hoofed it into town and Miracle of Miracles found a native who owned a truck. His name was Sebastian Sandoval. Oh, no, Sr., I am very sorry, but not to the Big Mountain. Why not to the Big Mountain? It is a bad place. What's bad about it? Men have gone there and never come back. Sometimes even from here we can hear the mountain shake itself. And you call yourself a truck driver, huh? I am a truck driver. Oh, don't give me that. I drive the truck like nobody. Yeah, like nobody. At Maracaibo they call me a one truck driver. A one truck driver, huh? You think I'm not, eh? I think you're not, hey. By golly, I show you. I show you who is the best truck driver in Venezuela. Abinkito Viscrams. As we approached the Big Mountain we could see deep red slashes where landslides had roared down the face of the escarpment. It looked like something out of Conan Doyle's lost world. Sharp precipices rising from the floor of the Sibana. Crowned with three separate peaks. The base of the hill was heavily wooded. We parked the truck and we had a hack of trail through with our machetes. Let's take a breathe. Okay. All right, hold it up, Sandoval. This in your... Cigarette Houston. Thanks. Uh, Sandoval, you want a smoke? Sandoval. What are you dreaming about? Listen. Huh? What am I supposed to be listening for? You don't hear it? Hear what? The mountain. It is grinding its teeth. Oh, you're hearing things. Come on, come on, take a smoke. Well, listen, amigo, you think the mountain has no teeth? How do you know about these things? We live here, we know. My father and his father, you think they just make up about these things? Many have come here and been crushed by the mountain. Oh, do not laugh. Oh, look, look, look, I'm not laughing at you. It's a dead serious proposition and I know it. If it'll do you any good, I'm just as scared as you are, but so what? We can't turn back now. A lot of men have spent a lot of time in the pile of jack to get to this far. So settle down. Take it easy. Listen, listen, landslide. Step behind the trees. Quick, it's coming. Houston, I'm okay. Sandoval. Right, senor. Ronnie, Ronnie, get over here quickly. What's the matter? Look, look at these boulders that slid down. Look at them. Iron. Come on, let's get going to where all this came from. Up, up top, up there, on top. Sweating, huffing, forgetting the snakes. We crawled our way up to the summit. And there we stood, not quite believing our eyes. Not daring to believe. That's what it is. Blasted mountain of iron. Solid iron. Maybe. What do you mean maybe? It may only be a crust. You never can tell how deep it is until you drill. But look down the side of that precipice. It's 300 feet straight down and you can see that it's solid iron ore. Looks good. Wonderful. We'll have to drill before we can find out for sure. Let's take some sightings, make a rough survey, then beat it back to town and register the claim. The next night, Kay Burrell took one look at our samples, stripped off his coat and began to sketch out a flat map of the territory. I and Jose began work on drawing up the claim. I'll dictate, Rummy. You take it down over time. Okay, start dictating. Right. I, Volka Kielsteads, citizen of the United States of America, resident of Ciudad Bolivar, declare the discovery of a mine named... Hey, what do we call it? I don't know. What do you suggest? I'd like to name it after my wife, Carla. Good idea, Carla, it is. The discovery of a mine named... Carla number one. For the purpose of surveying, I take a point of departure, a stake of durable material placed at the summit of the westernmost peak of the mountain known as... We spend all night working on five separate claims. We knew we had struck something big, that we might have the richest iron deposit in the world in our fist. We knew all we had to do was get our claim filed. About midnight, Jose went down to fetch sandwiches and coffee and was back in the office in ten minutes. Sir, excuse me. What is it? Sir, leave him. What's the matter? The truck driver. What about him? He's in the cantina. When I went in to get the coffee, I saw him. So what? He has been talking all over the place. What do you mean, talking? Ram has loosened his tongue, sir, as he's telling everyone about the Cerro Bolivar, the whole town knows about the iron hole. The cats will have every claim jumped from the country on next by morning. What time does the registrar's office open, Jose? We can't take any chances. We'll be down there at 7.30. 7.30 the next morning, we handed our claims to the registrar. Oh, I am sorry. So very sorry indeed, senoras. But I cannot accept these papers. Why not, senor? Because they are all out of order. They have to be in long hand on government stump paper. But we didn't have any stamp paper. I'm very sorry, but the regulations, they are very clear on this point. We have to do them over again, is that it? I am afraid so, I am sorry. Now, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. Will you just look over the claim and make a note of the time we brought it in? Will you do that? Yes, yes, I can do that as well. Let me see now. Oh, my dear senoras, this is all very disturbing indeed. Very disturbing. But what is it? A prior claim has been made to this territory. A prior? I received it this morning at my home. It's from the same land? You're sure of it? Positive, sir, of Aliva. Can we see the other claim? Well, not until I enter in the registry book. Oh, when will that be? As soon as possible. It must be entered in long hand. It takes time. Yes, can we see it after you enter it? But certainly. All right. Jose, Jose, you stay here and the minute the other claim is available, make copy of it and get it back to our office. Is this easy or later? Senoras, I am very, very sorry. Believe me, I hope you are not disturbed. Disturbed? Don't be silly. We're not disturbed. We're fractured. You are listening to the DuPont Cavalcade of America starring Dane Clark and sponsored by the DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. The DuPont Cavalcade continues as Ronnie Latham, played by Dane Clark, resumes his narrative of a Venezuelan adventure and the discovery suddenly snatched away. First you see it and then you don't. A country desperately in need of high-grade iron ore, U.S. steel pouring millions into a worldwide search, a race against time. Then to find it. To find it in the heart of Venezuela, find it. Only to have it snatched under our very noses. Oh, it was rough. When we returned to the office, Mack Lake was there. He had flown in from Caracas. We told him the sad story. Okay, what's done is done. Well, don't look so licked. We are licked. That's what it adds up to. Maybe not. Let's keep pushing ahead. Fulca, get those claims in proper shape as soon as possible. They have to be done by hand. Okay, call in the whole crew, engineers, everybody. Get them all on the job. We may have lost the round, but we haven't lost the fight. About four o'clock in the afternoon, Jose got back from the registrar's office. I've got a copy of the other claim, señor. All right, let's take it in. Here's the other claim. Good, good. Let's take a look at it. Oh, far if I get my hands on that truck driver. So how does it look, Kay? Well, it looks, uh... So that's funny. Where's our map? Right here. Spread it out. I've got a sneaking suspicion. Just an idea. What do you mean, Kay? Look here at this claim. First of all, it starts off by saying that they take as point of departure a stake of durable material to be placed on the farmland owned by one Miguel Armando. To be placed, get that. That means they haven't put their market down yet. Hey, here's the farm on the map. It's over here. All right, now let's give them the benefit of every doubt. Suppose we use this as a starting point, the corner of the property nearest to Ciro Bolivar. That's here. Here in the Sabana, east of the hill. Our claim ran from the westernmost peak. The overlap is just a chance. A bad chance. Look, let's not jump to conclusions. We'll have to plot it out. That's the only way to be sure. We've got to plot out their claims. Braille worked quietly, quickly. The rest of us stood at his shoulders, watching him sketch in the lines of our claim and the other. No one spoke. The only sound was the word of the electric fans and buzz of flies. The rattle of the ox carts through the narrow streets of the city. We waited. Okay, there it is. Well? Well, I guessed, and I guessed wrong. Are you sure, Cain? I'm dead sure. Look here. We have five claims. Four of them are absolutely in the clear. One claim, column number five, may overlap one of theirs by maybe a hundred meters in one corner. Nothing more. So four of our claims are valid. You bet they are. All right, that's all we want to know. Kill. Pull in every diamond drill we can put our hands onto. We've got the drill. Find out if the high-grade surface over extends down to any depths. How many drills do we have at pier core? Two long-year-oldary drills. Order them to Cerro Boliva. Now, wait a minute, Mr. Lake. How do you expect to go up those drills into the mountain? There are no roads. Are these three rivers across the trail? Build the road. Bridge the rivers. Those drills have got to be turning by July. July and the rains came. You know, rain doesn't fall at Cerro Boliva. It just forms a sopping wet wall from the clouds right down on the ground. Our bulldozers had chewed a road up the side of the hill by then, and the trucks followed after them, sloshing their way up to the summit, carrying the drills and equipment we needed. All was tough work. But we did it. And three days after drilling started, we were ready to send back the core samples to see if they'd believe us for analysis and testing. We're going to have a rough trip, Ronnie. Be careful. I understand the Carapo River has busted its fangs. We'll get through. And keep those sample boxes dry. Tell Matt we've gone down 67 feet. There's no sign of tapering oil. Okay, okay. Can I bring you something back? Yeah, a pair of dry socks. Dry socks? Are you kidding? I bet the resident needs dry south of Macy's. I'll see you. Thanks. Good luck. What do I say? Sure. Whatever he wants that is dirty. That's the road. We must almost be at the bridge across the Carapo. Do you think we'll get across? Maybe. Maybe not. Wait a minute, wait a minute. There's someone out ahead. Yeah, it's one of our drivers. Hold up. All right. What's wrong? You can't get across. The road is two feet over the bridge. Is the bridge holding? So far. Okay. Jose, check the sample boxes. Make sure the canvas around them is tight. The Jeep will never get the crossing on. That's right. But we will. How? On our own two feet. All right, come on. Cut the motor. But, you see, ornate them, the river is full of fish. Well, what river is it? River fish. River fish? Some call them piranhas. Flesh eaters. They can eat a man's foot right down to the bone in a minute. Oh. Um, grab a sample box and let's get started. But, but, señor, but even if we get across on the other side, what then? How will we get to Ciudad Boliva? Jose, it's an old saying, never cross a bridge until you come to it. Doesn't say anything about worrying about what's on the other side. Come on. Come on. The water's fine. Come on, Jose. Yes, señor. Have a couple of steps. That's all. There. They're easy now. I guess the fish are looking for juicy meat. Come on, up we go. Gracias. Adios, we made it. Yeah. Yeah, we made it. It's 50 miles to Ciudad Boliva. 50 miles. How do we... What are they from? Look. Huh? For Pete's sake. Senor, it's been years. How'd you go, eh? You. Me, Sebastián Sandoval. How you keep? You know, if I swore, if I ever laid eyes on you again, I'd plant one right on your kisser. What's the matter? You don't like me no more, fellow? Well, that all depends. Uh, where's that thing you call a truck? Under the tree there. I was coming back to La Parida. When I got here, there's too much river. Don't worry, I'll wait. You want to be my pal again, huh? Oh, sure. You bet. All right. How's about driving us back to town? That makes us pals again, Guido. Buzzing pals. Amigo mio. We scrub. My nightfall, we were back in Ciudad Boliva. I parked my, uh, Buzzing pal, Sebastián, in the nearest cantino and made for the office. Mac Lake was waiting with John Hellenstein, our chief chemist. How long before we can get the results, Holly? Well, it'll take the boys until midnight to crush and quarter these samples. We'll get them into solution as soon as we can. I'd say we'd be able to do the type trading about noontime. OK, get to work. The big bell in the cathedral down the street had just told off noon when Hellenstein walked in. Well, how does it shape up, Holly? Let's have it. Very interesting. Very interesting and most unusual. Holly. Pure iron ore, as you know, is iron oxide and consists of 30% by weight of oxygen and 70% by weight of iron. Holly, we know that. Theoretically, therefore, the purest iron ore would contain 70% iron. Holly, what's the score? I didn't believe it at first. I checked and rechecked, but it's true. These samples range from 59.10 to 67.3. 67.3? They'll average out at about 64%. It's incredible. Finest misabi ore averages between 50 and 55%. This is almost 10% richer. Richer than the misabi. I never believed it possible. Well, it's three years now since U.S. Steel discovered the iron ore of Cerro Beliva. Looking round, I can see lots of changes. The road up the mountain has been graded. The camp has taken on a look of efficiency of permanency. And looking down from my headquarters now, I can see the airstrip, the pumping stations. I can see the bulldozers smoothing out the ground for the homes, the churches, the schools that will soon be rising down in the savanna. Yes, we've come a long way. And there's still a long way to go before this Venezuelan ore can be fed to America's blast furnaces and become critically needed steel. But all those problems will be solved. The big point is that we've got Cerro Beliva. We've got the iron mountain. And why have we got it? I'll tell you. We've got it because an American company had the bigness to accept a big responsibility. And there'll be no iron ore shortage in America no matter how vast our needs, no matter what the demands in the next 20, 50, or even 100 years. And, brother, that's important to a country whose very existence depends on steel. Can the Cavalcade players for tonight's story the iron mountain? Then Clark will return in a moment. It was a pleasure to appear on Cavalcade tonight. And speaking of pleasures, let me remind you that next Tuesday night you'll be hearing my friend Dick Widmark on Cavalcade. It'll be a listening treat. A story about a man who sailed the seas with just a cargo of water. And yet he made a fortune. I'm Dick Widmark on Cavalcade next week. Thanks and good night. Tonight's original DuPont drama, the Iron Mountain, was written by Irv Tunick. Then Clark will soon be seen starring in the J. Arthur Rank Universal International production, Highly Dangerous. Music for the DuPont Cavalcade is composed by Harden Cornwell and conducted by Donald Voorhees. The program is directed by John Zoller. Don't forget next week, Richard Widmark on the DuPont Cavalcade of America, which comes to you from the Velasco Theater in New York and is sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Three times mean good times on NBC.