Frank T. Hopkins

In the Old West days, several people changed the course of history for the United States. If I could be any of them, I would have wanted to be Frank T. Hopkins. If I were Frank Hopkins, this would be my life.

I was born shortly after the Civil War in a log cabin in Fort Laramie, Wyoming. My father was an army scout and my mother was the daughter of a Sioux chief. Growing up, I often rode with the Indians to capture and break mustangs. In my early teens, I rode dispatch for Generals Miles and Crook. Later, I was a buffalo hunter and worked with Buffalo Jones, Bill Matheson, William Hinrer, and Bill Cody. I was riding mustangs and had developed definite opinions about them. When I was riding as a messenger for General Crook, he mentioned to me, "...if troops can't overtake a band of Indians in two hours, it's better to give up the chase." When I asked him why that was, the general replied that the wiry Indian ponies "...can go 90 miles without food or water. They can wear out all the cavalry horses we have on the frontier." What the General didn't know, was that I was aware of the problem even before General Crook had realized the situation. Besides the phenomenal endurance of the mustang, Frank also rated the mustang as an intelligent and economical horse. You see, you can't beat mustang intelligence in the entire equine race. These animals have had to shift for themselves for generations. They had to work out their own destiny or be destroyed. Those that survived were animals of superior intelligence. The mustang was grass-fed all his life. He picked his own food from the country, could live where even a cow would starve, and knew how to take such good care of himself that he was always ready to go.

My first endurance ride was in the Summer of 1886. It was to be from Galveston, Texas to Rutland, Vermont. Buffalo Jones was as much of a fan of the mustang as I was. Horse for horse, both me and Jones believed that a mustang could beat any other breed or type. We decided to prove our opinion. Jones agreed to finance the ride if would enter the race. Only one horse was allowed for each rider, and a day's journey was not to exceed ten hours. Along the route judges were placed who kept a tally of the rider's time on a card carried by each rider. I used Joe, a stallion that I had spent the last few months breaking and training. Joe and I won the race and $3,000. We made the ride in 31 days with average distance at 57.7 miles per day. We were in Rutland 13 days before the second horse and rider came in.

The phenomenal win made me and my horse a pretty famous pair. Bill Cody, who was then known as Buffalo Bill of the famous Wild West Show, talked me into joining his show. I was anxious to join the troupe of horsemen, and in the ensuing years, I met many horsemen of the world through the organization called the Congress of Riders of the World. In 1889, the show was in Paris for the world's fair. A great number of horsemen, mostly cavalrymen, had assembled there for the horse exhibitions and shows. Rau Rasmussen, an Arabian businessman who dominated the camel freighting around Aden in the southern tip of Arabia and who also was a lover of fine horses, heard about me and my mustang horses. He had also heard how the Indians on prairie mustangs had consistently outdistanced the American cavalry. Rasmussen introduced himself to me and developed a discussion about the mustang that led to him telling me about an endurance ride that was a yearly event in Arabia--a 3,000-mile ride. In the past, only desert-bred Arabians had competed. But now he was anxious to pit an American mustang against the Arabian horse. I had to say no for obvious financial reasons. The next day, Nathan Salisbury, an official of the Congress of Riders of the World, and Rau Rasmussen visited to again discuss the matter. Salisbury informed me that if he were willing to go to Arabia and compete in the contest, the Congress of Riders of