text_original: As we climbed a ridge, here was a little log church, the rude cross on the belfry showing dark against the sky. And there, in front of us, flanked by blockhouses with conical caps, was the frowning mass of Fort Sackville.
text_transcription: AS WE CLIMBED A RIDGE HERE WAS A LITTLE LOG CHURCH THE RUDE CROSS ON THE BELFRY SHOWING DARK AGAINST THE SKY AND THERE IN FRONT OF US FLANKED BY BLOCK HOUSES WITH CONICAL CATS WAS THE FROWNING MASS OF FORT SACKVILLE
phonemes: æz wiː klˈaɪmd ɐ ɹˈɪdʒ, hˈɪɹ wʌzɐ lˈɪɾəl lˈɔɡ tʃˈɜːtʃ, ðə ɹˈuːd kɹˈɔs ɔnðə bˈɛlfɹi ʃˈoʊɪŋ dˈɑːɹk ɐɡˈɛnst ðə skˈaɪ. ænd ðˈɛɹ, ɪn fɹˈʌnt ʌv ˌʌs, flˈæŋkt baɪ blˈɑːkhaʊzᵻz wɪð kˈɑːnɪkəl kˈæps, wʌzðə fɹˈaʊnɪŋ mˈæs ʌv fˈɔːɹt sˈækvɪl.