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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 24493 | 2020-05-06 05:39:43 | 161.69 | 98.4% |
| 18849 | 2018-12-09 06:09:12 | 146.44 | 98.3% |
| 16480 | 2018-09-06 04:08:00 | 155.17 | 98.4% |
| 16240 | 2018-09-03 20:55:14 | 143.73 | 98.4% |
| 12030 | 2018-04-13 01:14:59 | 139.59 | 97% |