text_original: Nothing loath, I seized the Indian by the long scalp lock, while my big friend guided my hand, and amid laughter and cheers I cut off my first trophy of war. Nor did I have any other feeling than fierce hatred of the race which had killed my father.
text_transcription: NOTHING LOTH I SEIZED THE INDIAN BY THE LONG SCOUT LOCK WHILE MY BIG FRIEND GUIDED MY HAND AND AMID LAUGHTER AND CHEERS I CUT OFF MY FIRST TROPHY OF WAR NOR DID I HAVE ANY OTHER FEELING THAN FIERCE HATRED OF THE RACE WHICH HAD KILLED MY FATHER
phonemes: nˈʌθɪŋ lˈoʊθ, aɪ sˈiːzd ðɪ ˈɪndiən baɪ ðə lˈɔŋ skˈælp lˈɑːk, wˌaɪl maɪ bˈɪɡ fɹˈɛnd ɡˈaɪdᵻd maɪ hˈænd, ænd ɐmˈɪd lˈæftɚ ænd tʃˈɪɹz aɪ kˈʌt ˈɔf maɪ fˈɜːst tɹˈoʊfi ʌv wˈɔːɹ. nˈɔːɹ dˈɪd aɪ hæv ˌɛni ˈʌðɚ fˈiːlɪŋ ðɐn fˈɪɹs hˈeɪtɹɪd ʌvðə ɹˈeɪs wˌɪtʃ hæd kˈɪld maɪ fˈɑːðɚ.