ry. They had to cremate the bull for fear the disease
would spread. Ever' one of the calves were normal Whitefaces.

"Finally, the nineteen Atohmy cattle that were left were put up for
sale. My great-grandfather, Cary McPheeter, bought 'em and shipped 'em
here to Bays Mountain. He's the man started this farm where there was
nothin' but rattlesnakes, and trees, and rocks."

"Whyy theyea selll um?" a red roan calf interrupted.

"Well, they sold 'em 'cause Oak Ridge had been condemned. That was
several years after the German Civil War. It was peace time, for a
change, and folks were sick of Atomic Bomb. Anyhow, new, modern plants
for makin' the stuff had been built in secret places a lot easier to
defend. The women were cryin' for more automatic kitchens, so the Bureau
of Interior Hydro-electric Power (that's the name Federal Power, Inc.,
went by then) put another dam across the Clinch River below Norris. Bush
Lake covered up Oak Ridge.

"There wasn't much mutation, except for color, in you Atohmy cattle,
till seven years ago when your pappy, Moe, was born. I remember--"

A hoarse excited voice shouted from a distance. "Thrill party!" it
cried. "Thrill party!"

* * * * *

Stonecypher leaped off the stump, stamped his right foot to restore
circulation, and yelled on the run, "That's all today! Stay under the
trees!"

He loped along the pasture fence and across the makeshift target range.
Two tenants, Teddy and Will, stood on the dirt heap with pitchforks in
their hands. Over Bay Knob, an old Model 14 butterflier hovered on
vibrating wings. Sloppy white letters on the sides of the aircraft
spelled such slang expressions as, "Flash the MAGNETS,"
"SupercOlossalSoniC Flap ship," and "Redheads amble OTHer canop."

An impossible number of middleschool-age boys bulged from the cabin
windows. Methodically, they dumped trash and garbage over the
transmitter station ruins. The butterflier wheeled and flapped over the
pasture. Red clover bent and writhed in the artificial wind from the
ornithopter wings. Cows bawled and ran wild. Calves fell over each
other.

Stonecypher jumped the fence. He wrested the revolver from the holster.
"Clear out, or I'll shoot!" he howled.

[Illustration]

Voices spilled from the butterflier. "He got a handgun!"

"Dis ain't legal!"

"Whatcha say, tall, bones, and ugly?"

Stonecypher aimed the Magnum at the shaven head in the pilot's seat. The
boys looked f