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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 99712 | 2020-07-05 06:42:29 | 97.83 | 98% |
| 95562 | 2020-05-17 03:18:29 | 90.57 | 98% |
| 94712 | 2020-05-06 10:36:00 | 79.87 | 97% |
| 90175 | 2020-03-25 20:04:25 | 91.04 | 97% |
| 84067 | 2019-10-07 12:26:02 | 81.48 | 95% |
| 77367 | 2019-06-14 00:42:29 | 92.59 | 97% |
| 66076 | 2018-11-30 00:46:14 | 93.82 | 97% |
| 62958 | 2018-09-22 05:23:45 | 88.80 | 97% |
| 55430 | 2018-04-21 22:39:51 | 88.92 | 96% |