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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 24825 | 2019-05-02 17:38:30 | 98.81 | 96% |
| 24336 | 2019-04-18 18:55:58 | 112.04 | 96% |
| 13321 | 2018-02-26 20:24:45 | 106.64 | 97% |