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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 55084 | 2020-11-30 12:28:36 | 96.09 | 98% |
| 40409 | 2019-05-22 22:25:22 | 89.28 | 98% |
| 38041 | 2019-03-20 20:41:12 | 84.91 | 98% |
| 28606 | 2018-12-13 14:23:05 | 96.20 | 98% |
| 28248 | 2018-12-12 10:38:08 | 100.40 | 98% |
| 25030 | 2018-11-12 00:40:20 | 84.34 | 98% |
| 23830 | 2018-10-28 05:48:57 | 78.86 | 98% |
| 23204 | 2018-10-21 09:16:55 | 82.57 | 97% |
| 16397 | 2018-07-09 22:48:05 | 74.36 | 97% |
| 13654 | 2018-05-19 03:15:04 | 73.59 | 98% |
| 11180 | 2018-03-30 02:59:45 | 68.81 | 98% |