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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1735 | 2020-02-01 10:09:46 | 90.42 | 97% |
| 717 | 2019-10-14 08:07:16 | 87.50 | 98% |
| 641 | 2019-10-10 09:15:51 | 83.32 | 97% |