e toy guns, and a whole
generation grew up on Westerns. When they got big, they carried real
guns. I've heard my great-uncle tell about it, how before the Government
built duel-pens and passed laws, you couldn't hardly cross the Lakes
without runnin' into a bunch of fools on water skis shootin' at each
other."

"You leave the histo'y books alone foah awhile," Catriona commanded,
"and practice. The tenants and ah'll tend to the wo'k. Try it loaded and
empty. Hook this little buzzah to the timeah, and practice. Ah've got to
go see the chickens."

"'Bye, teacher." Stonecypher dropped the buzzer in his pocket and
watched her vanish into the grove. He fired the remaining shots, nicking
the target once. With the revolver holstered, he followed the path to
the summer pasture.

* * * * *

Belly-deep in red clover, twenty-four cows, twenty-four calves, and
twenty-four yearlings grazed or played in the shady field. Stonecypher
cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Smart-calves!
Smart-calves to school!"

The entire herd turned sorrowful eyes on him. Seven of the calves and
four of the yearlings trotted to the gate, which Stonecypher held open,
and jostled out of the pasture. As the calves began to lie down under
the trees, a white heifer-calf nuzzled Stonecypher's hand and bawled,
"Paaapy gyoing a fyightt?"

"Yeah, he's goin' to fight," Stonecypher answered. "Your pappy's gone to
the bullring. He suggested it, and made the choice himself. He's got
real courage. You oughta all be proud of him."

The calves bawled their pride. Including those remaining in the pasture,
they presented a colorful variety of spots, specks, splotches, browns,
reds, blacks, and even occasional blue and greenish tinges. Stonecypher
sat facing them from a stump. He said, "I'm sorta late for the lesson,
today, so we'll get on with it. Some of this will be repetition for you
yearlings, but it won't hurt. If you get too bored, there's corn and
cottonseed meal in the trough, only be quiet about it.

"Now. To look at you all, nobody would think you're the same breed of
cattle; but you, and your mammys, and Moe are the only Atohmy cattle on
Earth. It's usually hard to say exactly when a breed started; but you
all started a long, long time ago, on July 16, 1945, near Alamogordo,
New Mexico, when they exploded the first Atomic Bomb."

At mention of Atomic Bomb, who had succeeded the Bogger Man as a means
of fright