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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9942 | 2018-12-23 23:49:28 | 94.29 | 98% |
| 8807 | 2018-06-04 14:58:52 | 97.65 | 99% |
| 8130 | 2018-05-04 14:48:30 | 100.80 | 98% |