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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 13527 | 2019-08-26 02:52:21 | 134.49 | 97% |
| 12251 | 2019-06-10 21:28:29 | 155.55 | 99% |
| 11580 | 2019-04-11 21:41:05 | 156.24 | 98% |