One day, little Footsteps Upon the Water was chasing a squirrel, and he ran so far and so wide that he lost sight of home, and he could not find his way back. On and on ran the squirrel until it came at last to a hollow tree, and it went inside to hide. Footsteps Upon the Water went inside, too, but he was not so small as the squirrel. Out of the log ran the squirrel, but the little boy could not get out. He was stuck fast inside the hollow tree.
His father looked for the little boy many moons. His mother sat at home in the wigwam, crying, but Footsteps Upon the Water did not come back. He lay in the log, and he pounded and shouted, and he thought no one was ever coming to let him out.
But one morning, as he rapped, he heard, on the outside, rap, rap, rap, and a shrill voice calling:
“Footsteps Upon the Water, are you there? Are you there?”
Then a wrinkled, brown face, with a fringe of arrows for a cap, peered in at the end of the log. It was Grandmother Porcupine come to help the little boy out.
“I traveled three days and three nights, little Footsteps Upon the Water, because I heard you cry,” said Grandmother Porcupine.
Then she scratched and she scratched at the end of the log, but she could not get the little boy out.
“I will bring my three grandsons,” said Grandmother Porcupine, and she hurried away to the old hemlock tree where her grandsons lived. She brought them back with her, and they all scratched at the end of the hollow log until at last the little boy was able to crawl out.
Footsteps Upon the Water winked and blinked his eyes when he came outside, for he had not seen the sun in many days. There, in a circle, sat Grandmother Porcupine, her three grandsons, the old Bear, the Deer, and the Wolf.
“Now, who will be a mother to this little boy?” said Grandmother Porcupine; “I am too old to take care of him.”