text_original: Of a morning a dozen would be sitting against the logs in the black shadow, and in the midst of them always squatted an unsavory Indian squaw. A few braves usually stood like statues at the corner, and in front of the door another group of hunting shirts.
text_transcription: OF A MORNING A DOZEN WOULD BE SITTING AGAINST THE LOGS IN THE BLACK SHADOW AND IN THE MIDST OF THEM ALWAYS SQUATTED AN UNSAVOURY INDIAN SQUALL A FEW BRAVES USUALLY STOOD LIKE STATUES IN THE CORNER AND IN FRONT OF THE DOOR ANOTHER GROUP OF HUNTING SHIRTS
phonemes: əvə mˈɔːɹnɪŋ ɐ dˈʌzən wʊd biː sˈɪɾɪŋ ɐɡˈɛnst ðə lˈɔɡz ɪnðə blˈæk ʃˈædoʊ, ænd ɪnðə mˈɪdst ʌv ðˌɛm ˈɔːlweɪz skwˈɑːɾᵻd ɐn ʌnsˈeɪvɚɹi ˈɪndiən skwˈɔː. ɐ fjˈuː bɹˈeɪvz jˈuːʒuːəli stˈʊd lˈaɪk stˈætʃuːz æt ðə kˈɔːɹnɚ, ænd ɪn fɹˈʌnt ʌvðə dˈɔːɹ ɐnˈʌðɚ ɡɹˈuːp ʌv hˈʌntɪŋ ʃˈɜːts.