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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6205 | 2020-03-16 19:23:27 | 57.15 | 95% |
| 4639 | 2020-03-07 15:41:15 | 80.69 | 96% |
| 3118 | 2020-02-19 11:49:52 | 73.80 | 95% |