text_original: Bill Cowan, doubled up behind a woodpile and breathing heavily, nudged me. "Davy, Davy, what d'ye see!". Was it a head that broke the line of the crest? Even as I stared, breathless, half a score of forms shot up and were running madly for the stockade.
text_transcription: BILL COWAN DOUBLED UP BEHIND A WOODPILE AND BREATHING HEAVILY NUDGED ME DAVY DAVY WHAT'D YOU SEE WAS IT A HEAD THAT BROKE THE LINE OF THE CREST EVEN AS I STARED BREATHLESS HALF A SCORE OF FORMS SHOT UP AND WERE RUNNING MADLY FOR THE STOCKADE
phonemes: bˈɪl kˈaʊən, dˈʌbəld ˌʌp bᵻhˌaɪnd ɐ wˈʊdpaɪl ænd bɹˈiːðɪŋ hˈɛvili, nˈʌdʒd mˌiː. "dˈeɪvi, dˈeɪvi, wˌʌt djə sˈiː!". wʌz ɪɾ ɐ hˈɛd ðæt bɹˈoʊk ðə lˈaɪn ʌvðə kɹˈɛst? ˈiːvən æz aɪ stˈɛɹd, bɹˈɛθləs, hˈæf ɐ skˈɔːɹ ʌv fˈɔːɹmz ʃˈɑːt ˌʌp ænd wɜː ɹˈʌnɪŋ mˈædli fɚðə stˈɑːkeɪd.