Answer:
I can be used to type and point you see. But don't forget, you can count on me. What am I?
Dies half its life. Lives the rest. Dances without music. Breathes without breath.
I have three hundred cattle, with a single nose cord
Held firmly in the hands, like a sword it cuts deep. Bloodless strokes, all, then forward we leap.
What weaves webs as they grow?
What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?