All right. Welcome back to part four of my reading of the Camp of the Saints by Jean Raspial. No one's corrected me on the pronunciation of his name yet. I'm waiting. I wanted to remind you. I had mentioned that I used a speechify app and that I tried it for free

their free version for a while you couldn't go above one and a half speed it was a robotic voice

you can get a subscription to it where you can modify everything you can make

everything custom and the voices it'll speak to you and are great and everything.

If that's something you'd be interested in getting, if you use the promo code and the

link on my phone on my website sorry you'll get half off for

the first year I'll get half off also so it's not like I'm doing it out of the

kindness of my heart.

I get something out of it to you, but so to you.

Half Price.

And that's at Freeman Beyond the Wall.com

forward slash speech.

Check it out.

You go to PDF in there. You can put a link to an article in there,

and you can read it to you and read it to you in a great voice or whatever speed you want.

All right. Let's go. Chapter 13. And we're off. At the mouth of the Ganges, the

Delta's reddened water is paled abruptly as they emptied into the vast Gulf of Bengal and the hundred ships of the refugee fleet steered a sluggish southwesterly course toward the straits of Ceylon. The captains had agreed to

lymphie along along for the sake of one moribund vessel, the shadiest of the lot, a big

river tugboat used to far calmer waters, used to far calmer waters, the most pitiful

cripple in this whole floating slum. Like the rest of her flat deck, her lo slung bow was piled white with pilgrims.

With every wave it plunged into the water, paying the sea a ransom of surplus souls carried

off in the mists, a kind of pathetic hop on my thumb, struggling to keep pace

...