Late in the afternoon of a day in the early part of last December I had ridden out from our lines in Ladysmith towards a certain position usually occupied by a Boer outpost, trusting by my going out deliberately and unarmed to get one of the men there to have a talk, just as one of the Lancers had a few days previously. For some time we had been on short rations of "copy" as well as food. I rode along the edge of an empty spruit, into the bed of which my spurs would have propelled my horse in the unlikely event of a shot being my first greeting.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 42125 | 2020-04-17 04:51:39 | 98.20 | 98% |
| 41246 | 2020-03-31 03:38:31 | 97.19 | 98% |
| 40177 | 2020-03-11 03:43:58 | 97.63 | 99% |
| 40043 | 2020-03-09 04:26:58 | 98.23 | 98% |
| 37406 | 2020-01-27 04:51:46 | 94.00 | 98% |
| 29464 | 2019-10-09 03:31:20 | 86.69 | 98% |
| 19052 | 2019-04-25 03:39:04 | 87.82 | 98% |
| 14155 | 2019-02-17 05:04:26 | 87.87 | 98% |
| 9993 | 2018-07-07 04:30:04 | 81.18 | 99% |
| 7152 | 2018-05-23 03:42:48 | 90.17 | 99% |
| 4908 | 2018-03-13 03:12:17 | 80.16 | 98% |