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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 80619 | 2020-11-27 23:02:54 | 142.27 | 99% |
| 77720 | 2020-09-15 18:37:23 | 127.45 | 98% |
| 73982 | 2019-08-18 22:32:16 | 133.58 | 99% |
| 66495 | 2019-01-04 20:29:54 | 109.65 | 97% |
| 60051 | 2018-11-05 01:34:49 | 118.78 | 98% |