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 |
---|---|---|---|
5524 | 2020-11-06 12:44:22 | 95.31 | 98% |
3435 | 2020-08-25 15:42:32 | 97.46 | 98% |
2210 | 2020-01-20 05:52:25 | 80.73 | 97% |
1972 | 2020-01-14 05:45:44 | 77.38 | 97% |