[The Walking Stones is a very light fantastic, deftly tripped story that seems to tell itself, to unfold] with no more of a prod than the turn of a page and the surest of elements. There's the old man by the Gaelic name of the Bodach who foresees the bringing of forest, lightning, and death to the glen by three men of the same name; his vision translates into hydroelectric power—first damming, then controlled flooding, then reforestation…. Donald Campbell [is] the Bodach's young friend and protege, awed by the old man's promise to forestall the flooding … and wondering why. But the how is a marvel: a wild now-you-see-don't dodge and chase with the Bodach positioning himself at the floodgates eluding capture, preventing the flip of the switch, impossibly yet unequivocally…. "It is known of old that this Copy, or Echo, or Living Picture, is under the command...