Answer:
I have three hundred cattle, with a single nose cord
I count time, but have no end. Tick tick, but I am not a clock. What am I?
What is that which, though black itself, enlightens the world without burning?
The more of them you take, the more you leave behind. What are they?
Long and think, red within, with a nail at the end.
I can only be played on a windy day