Ten minutes later he returned with the notched spear that had belonged to his grandfather. At the door to the cockpit, where half the town had gathered, Prudencio Aguilar was waiting for him.

tɛn ˈmɪnɪts ˈleɪtə hiː rɪˈtɜːnd wɪð ðə nɒʧt spɪə ðæt hæd bɪˈlɒŋd tuː hɪz ˈɡrændˌfɑːðə. æt ðə dɔː tuː ðə ˈkɒkpɪt, weə hɑːf ðə taʊn hæd ˈɡæðəd, Prudencio Aguilar wɒz ˈweɪtɪŋ fɔː hɪm.

tɛn ˈmɪnəts ˈleɪtər hi rɪˈtɜrnd wɪð ðə nɑʧt spɪr ðæt hæd bɪˈlɔŋd tu hɪz ˈɡrændˌfɑðər. æt ðə dɔr tu ðə ˈkɑkˌpɪt, wɛr hæf ðə taʊn hæd ˈɡæðərd, Prudencio ˈæɡəlɑr wʌz ˈweɪtɪŋ fɔr hɪm.

There was no time to defend himself. José Arcadio Buendía’s spear, thrown with the strength of a bull and with the same good aim with which the first Aureliano Buendía had exterminated the jaguars in the region, pierced his throat.

ðeə wɒz nəʊ taɪm tuː dɪˈfɛnd hɪmˈsɛlf. ʤəʊzé Arcadio Buendíeɪz spɪə, θrəʊn wɪð ðə strɛŋθ ɒv ə bʊl ænd wɪð ðə seɪm ɡʊd eɪm wɪð wɪʧ ðə fɜːst Aureliano Buendíə hæd ɪkˈstɜːmɪneɪtɪd ðə ˈʤæɡjuəz ɪn ðə ˈriːʤᵊn, pɪəst hɪz θrəʊt. 

ðɛr wʌz noʊ taɪm tu dɪˈfɛnd hɪmˈsɛlf. ʤoʊzé Arcadio Buendíeɪz spɪr, θroʊn wɪð ðə strɛŋkθ ʌv ə bʊl ænd wɪð ðə seɪm ɡʊd eɪm wɪð wɪʧ ðə fɜrst Aureliano Buendíə hæd ɪkˈstɜrməˌneɪtɪd ðə ˈʤæˌɡwɑrz ɪn ðə ˈriʤən, pɪrst hɪz θroʊt.