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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 744 | 2019-08-26 20:05:18 | 85.84 | 97% |
| 481 | 2019-06-16 10:37:12 | 81.35 | 97% |
| 455 | 2019-06-14 14:20:57 | 77.16 | 96% |