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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 36996 | 2019-11-16 23:50:59 | 144.65 | 99% |
| 35660 | 2018-08-08 20:17:18 | 142.15 | 98% |
| 30706 | 2018-02-27 22:06:44 | 142.23 | 99% |