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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4870 | 2020-12-13 11:54:52 | 145.82 | 99% |
| 2944 | 2020-11-02 10:25:38 | 122.18 | 98% |
| 1092 | 2019-04-19 03:32:33 | 123.79 | 98% |