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 |
---|---|---|---|
15832 | 2020-12-07 21:03:42 | 98.80 | 96% |
10563 | 2020-09-09 04:56:48 | 106.42 | 97% |
10425 | 2020-09-08 01:49:12 | 104.62 | 96% |
2653 | 2020-03-20 01:53:08 | 99.59 | 96% |