Up at Grantrice Pillars, Montana, King Stanley's friend lay dying of a bullet wound. Word was carried to King at Fort Custer, 700 miles away. King saddled up, turned his horse's head northward. Seven days later, he rode into Grantrice Pillars and hurried to the bedside of his friend, while a game little stallion grazed contentedly, none the worse for his long trip. A hundred miles a day for seven days.

The friend whom King Stanley broke all horsemanship records to visit was telling me about it just the other day. He is Frank T. Hopkins and he lives in Long Island City, New York. And though he himself has been a horseman all his life, and has seen and done unbelievable things ashore, he believes that this feat of King Stanley's entitles King to be called one of the best horsemen of all time.

Champion long-distance rider, thrice winner of international contests to determine the world's finest horsemen, Mr. Hopkins says that King Stanley is the best rider that he ever knew. In Mr. Hopkins' estimate, the test of a good horseman is that he can do what he sets out to do with his horse and at the same time manage the horse so skillfully and considerately that the horse does not suffer a single ill effect in the feat.

In over 60 years of horsemanship, which took him into every civilized nation and made him a participant—and winner—of over 400 long distance horse races, Mr. Hopkins met many horsemen of many nations. So his judgment of horsemen is that of an expert.

"Who were other great riders?" I asked.

"Colonel Cody was one," he replied. Colonel Cody, as the world knows, was Buffalo Bill of Wild West Show fame. But Cody had an insurmountable handicap— weight. Close to 200 pounds he weighed, and this bulk could not be overcome in a long distance horse contest. Had Cody weighed 50 pounds less, Mr. Hopkins believes he might have been the greatest of riders.

"Yellowstone Kelly," continued Mr. Hopkins, enumerating the great on horseback. "Yellowstone Kelly belongs right near the top. He was an old time plains scout. When there was a job to be done he was practically tireless. Once he rode 385 miles without rest. Certain messages had to be got through. Kelly carried them."

"He changed his horses often on this ride, of course, but he sat down in the old McClellan Saddle himself for 32 hours without rest. If you don't think that takes a man, go on a one-hour or two-hour ride yourself some day."

Another great rider, who never received his due because he was an Indian, was Black Elk, a Sioux. Mr. Hopkins thinks that the American Indian, before the contaminating influence of the white race plunged him into constant warfare and made him neglect his ponies, was as good a horseman as the world ever saw. Black Elk was one of the best in his class. On one occasion he rode 120 miles in a day, and brought his pony through in good shape.

A modest man, Mr. Hopkins does not list himself in the great riders, but in my opinion he not only belongs in the list—he belongs at the head of it.

Look at his record: in over 400 long distance races he was beaten but once, and then by foul; he finished first but was disqualified. These races varied in length from 50 to 3,000 miles. Three times he won the title of "World's Greatest Horseman" in competition with picked riders from the cavalry of the world. Other horsemanship prizes too numerous to mention he also won.

So I place him first in the list of great.