text_original: Forward again, and twisting a corner, we beheld the indented edge of the stockade. Still no hail, nor had our moccasined feet betrayed us as we sought the river side of the fort and drew up before the big river gates of it.
text_transcription: FORWARD AGAIN AND TWISTING A CORNER WE BEHELD THE INDENTED EDGE OF THE STOCKADE STILL NO HAIL NOR HAD OUR MOCCASINED FEET BETRAYED US AS WE SOUGHT THE RIVER SIDE OF THE FORT AND DREW UP BEFORE THE BIG RIVER GATES OF IT
phonemes: fˈɔːɹwɚd ɐɡˈɛn, ænd twˈɪstɪŋ ɐ kˈɔːɹnɚ, wiː bᵻhˈɛld ðɪ ˌɪndˈɛntᵻd ˈɛdʒ ʌvðə stˈɑːkeɪd. stˈɪl nˈoʊ hˈeɪl, nˈɔːɹ hæd ˌaʊɚ mˈɑːkəsɪnd fˈiːt bᵻtɹˈeɪd ˌʌs æz wiː sˈɔːt ðə ɹˈɪvɚ sˈaɪd ʌvðə fˈɔːɹt ænd dɹˈuː ˌʌp bᵻfˌɔːɹ ðə bˈɪɡ ɹˈɪvɚ ɡˈeɪts ʌv ɪt.