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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5386 | 2019-06-14 21:23:15 | 78.42 | 97% |
| 4284 | 2019-04-17 15:20:06 | 75.58 | 98% |
| 4056 | 2019-04-15 13:09:02 | 68.20 | 97% |