Stone has no such qualms. He pads over and starts picking them up by arms, scruffs, tails, antlers, whatever is handy, and setting them gently to one side. "You're crowding her," he says, kindly but implacably. Most of the spirits get the picture when he moves them a second time (a couple even the first time) and sheepishly trundle off.

There's only a couple who get angry, but they're small and easily intimidated by sharp teeth and a ground-vibrating growl.