text_original: "I'm lost. I swear it on the evangels." "A hard country!" cried Clark. "A man would have to walk over it but once to know it. I believe you are a damned traitor and perjurer,  in spite of your oath, a British spy." Saunders wiped the sweat from his brow on his buckskin sleeve. "I reckon I could get the trace, Colonel, if you'd let me go a little way into the prairie." "Half an hour," said Clark, "and you'll not go alone."
text_transcription: I'M LOST I SWEAR IT ON THE EVANGELS A HARD COUNTRY CRIED CLARK A MAN WOULD HAVE TO WALK OVER IT AT ONCE TO KNOW IT I BELIEVE YOU'RE A DAMNED TRAITOR AND PERJURER IN SPITE OF YOUR OATH A BRITISH SPY SAUNDERS WIPED THE SWEAT FROM HIS BROW ON HIS BUCKSKIN SLEEVE I RECKON I COULD GET THE TRACE COLONEL IF YOU'D LET ME GO A LITTLE WAY INTO THE PRAIRIE HALF AN HOUR SAID CLARK AND YOU'LL NOT GO ALONE
phonemes: "aɪm lˈɔst. aɪ swˈɛɹ ɪɾ ɔnðɪ ɪvˈændʒəlz." "ɐ hˈɑːɹd kˈʌntɹi!" kɹˈaɪd klˈɑːɹk. "ɐ mˈæn wʊdhˌævtə wˈɔːk ˌoʊvɚɹ ɪt bˌʌt wˈʌns tə nˈoʊ ɪt. aɪ bᵻlˈiːv juː ɑːɹ ɐ dˈæmd tɹˈeɪɾɚ ænd pˈɜːdʒjʊɹɹɚ,  ɪn spˈaɪt ʌv jʊɹ ˈoʊθ, ɐ bɹˈɪɾɪʃ spˈaɪ." sˈɔːndɚz wˈaɪpt ðə swˈɛt fɹʌm hɪz bɹˈaʊ ˌɔn hɪz bˈʌkskɪn slˈiːv. "aɪ ɹˈɛkən aɪ kʊd ɡɛt ðə tɹˈeɪs, kˈɜːnəl, ɪf juːd lˈɛt mˌiː ɡˌoʊ ɐ lˈɪɾəl wˈeɪ ˌɪntʊ ðə pɹˈɛɹi." "hˈæf ɐn ˈaʊɚ," sˈɛd klˈɑːɹk, "ænd juːl nˌɑːt ɡˌoʊ ɐlˈoʊn."