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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 19873 | 2020-04-16 01:42:35 | 147.42 | 99% |
| 15812 | 2019-09-18 01:45:02 | 153.39 | 99% |
| 10615 | 2019-03-31 19:53:28 | 147.37 | 99% |