on his back, struck north, alone, through the forest for Lake
Champlain. As he approached an Indian settlement he played his flute.
The aborigines showed no disposition to give him the hook. He hired
Indians to paddle him up to the Canadian border. He reached Montreal.

The fur traders there knew Bowne as a very sharp buyer, and so had
their quills out on his approach. But young Astor was seemingly
indifferent. His manner was courteous and easy.

He got close to his man, and took his pick of the pelts at fair prices.
He expended all of his money, and even bought on credit, for there are
men who always have credit.

Young Astor found Indian nature to be simply human nature.

The savage was a man, and courtesy, gentleness and fairly good
flute-playing soothed his savage breast. Astor had beads and blankets,
a flute and a smile. The Indians carried his goods by relays and then
passed him on with guttural certificates as to character, to other red
men, and at last he reached New York without the loss of a pelt or the
dampening of his ardor.

Bowne was delighted. To young Astor it was nothing. He had in his
blood the success corpuscle. He might have remained with Bowne and
become a partner in the business, but Bowne had business limitations
and Astor had n't.

So after a three years' apprenticeship, Astor knew all that Bowne did
and all he himself could imagine besides. So he resigned.

In Seventeen Hundred and Eighty-six, John Jacob Astor began business on
his own account in a little store on Water Street, New York. There was
one room and a basement. He had saved a few hundred dollars; his
brother, the butcher, had loaned him a few hundred more, and Robert
Bowne had contributed a bale of skins to be paid for "at thy own price
and thy own convenience."

Astor had made friends with the Indians up the Hudson clear to Albany,
and they were acting as recruiting agents for him. He was a bit
boastful of the fact that he had taught an Indian to play the flute,
and anyway he had sold the savage the instrument for a bale of beaver
pelts, with a bearskin thrown in for good measure. It was a musical
achievement as well as a commercial one.

Having collected several thousand dollars' worth of furs he shipped
them to London and embarked as a passenger in the steerage. The trip
showed him that ability to sell was quite as necessary as the ability
to buy--a point which with all of his shrewdness Bowne had never
g