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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5480 | 2019-09-19 21:06:43 | 97.81 | 97% |
| 5403 | 2019-09-17 21:40:22 | 88.64 | 96% |
| 536 | 2019-01-25 03:09:23 | 85.56 | 97% |