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HIAWATHA'S FRIENDS by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This part of Longfellow's epic poem introduces Hiawatha's two closest friends: Chibiabos, a musician whose talent is so remarkable that even nature pauses to hear him, and Kwasind, a man with incredible strength who appears lazy until you witness his true capabilities.

The poem
Two good friends had Hiawatha, Singled out from all the others, Bound to him in closest union, And to whom he gave the right hand Of his heart, in joy and sorrow; Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind. Straight between them ran the pathway, Never grew the grass upon it; Singing birds, that utter falsehoods, Story-tellers, mischief-makers, Found no eager ear to listen, Could not breed ill-will between them, For they kept each other's counsel, Spake with naked hearts together, Pondering much and much contriving How the tribes of men might prosper. Most beloved by Hiawatha Was the gentle Chibiabos, He the best of all musicians, He the sweetest of all singers. Beautiful and childlike was he, Brave as man is, soft as woman, Pliant as a wand of willow, Stately as a deer with antlers. When he sang, the village listened; All the warriors gathered round him, All the women came to hear him; Now he stirred their souls to passion, Now he melted them to pity. From the hollow reeds he fashioned Flutes so musical and mellow, That the brook, the Sebowisha, Ceased to murmur in the woodland, That the wood-birds ceased from singing, And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree, And the rabbit, the Wabasso, Sat upright to look and listen. Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach my waves to flow in music, Softly as your words in singing!" Yes, the bluebird, the Owaissa, Envious, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as wild and wayward, Teach me songs as full of frenzy!" Yes, the robin, the Opechee, Joyous, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as sweet and tender, Teach me songs as full of gladness!" And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, Sobbing, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as melancholy, Teach me songs as full of sadness!" All the many sounds of nature Borrowed sweetness from his singing; All the hearts of men were softened By the pathos of his music; For he sang of peace and freedom, Sang of beauty, love, and longing; Sang of death, and life undying In the Islands of the Blessed, In the kingdom of Ponemah, In the land of the Hereafter. Very dear to Hiawatha Was the gentle Chibiabos, He the best of all musicians, He the sweetest of all singers; For his gentleness he loved him, And the magic of his singing. Dear, too, unto Hiawatha Was the very strong man, Kwasind, He the strongest of all mortals, He the mightiest among many; For his very strength he loved him, For his strength allied to goodness. Idle in his youth was Kwasind, Very listless, dull, and dreamy, Never played with other children, Never fished and never hunted, Not like other children was he; But they saw that much he fasted, Much his Manito entreated, Much besought his Guardian Spirit. "Lazy Kwasind!" said his mother, "In my work you never help me! In the Summer you are roaming Idly in the fields and forests; In the Winter you are cowering O'er the firebrands in the wigwam! In the coldest days of Winter I must break the ice for fishing; With my nets you never help me! At the door my nets are hanging, Dripping, freezing with the water; Go and wring them, Yenadizze! Go and dry them in the sunshine!" Slowly, from the ashes, Kwasind Rose, but made no angry answer; From the lodge went forth in silence, Took the nets, that hung together, Dripping, freezing at the doorway; Like a wisp of straw he wrung them, Like a wisp of straw he broke them, Could not wring them without breaking, Such the strength was in his fingers. "Lazy Kwasind!" said his father, "In the hunt you never help me; Every bow you touch is broken, Snapped asunder every arrow; Yet come with me to the forest, You shall bring the hunting homeward." Down a narrow pass they wandered, Where a brooklet led them onward, Where the trail of deer and bison Marked the soft mud on the margin, Till they found all further passage Shut against them, barred securely By the trunks of trees uprooted, Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise, And forbidding further passage. "We must go back," said the old man, "O'er these logs we cannot clamber; Not a woodchuck could get through them, Not a squirrel clamber o'er them!" And straightway his pipe he lighted, And sat down to smoke and ponder. But before his pipe was finished, Lo! the path was cleared before him; All the trunks had Kwasind lifted, To the right hand, to the left hand, Shot the pine-trees swift as arrows, Hurled the cedars light as lances. "Lazy Kwasind!" said the young men, As they sported in the meadow: "Why stand idly looking at us, Leaning on the rock behind you? Come and wrestle with the others, Let us pitch the quoit together!" Lazy Kwasind made no answer, To their challenge made no answer, Only rose, and slowly turning, Seized the huge rock in his fingers, Tore it from its deep foundation, Poised it in the air a moment, Pitched it sheer into the river, Sheer into the swift Pauwating, Where it still is seen in Summer. Once as down that foaming river, Down the rapids of Pauwating, Kwasind sailed with his companions, In the stream he saw a beaver, Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, Struggling with the rushing currents, Rising, sinking in the water. Without speaking, without pausing, Kwasind leaped into the river, Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, Through the whirlpools chased the beaver, Followed him among the islands, Stayed so long beneath the water, That his terrified companions Cried, "Alas! good-by to Kwasind! We shall never more see Kwasind!" But he reappeared triumphant, And upon his shining shoulders Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, Brought the King of all the Beavers. And these two, as I have told you, Were the friends of Hiawatha, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind. Long they lived in peace together, Spake with naked hearts together, Pondering much and much contriving How the tribes of men might prosper.

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
This part of Longfellow's epic poem introduces Hiawatha's two closest friends: Chibiabos, a musician whose talent is so remarkable that even nature pauses to hear him, and Kwasind, a man with incredible strength who appears lazy until you witness his true capabilities. Together, these three friends share a deep bond based on trust and a common goal of helping their people flourish. It's reminiscent of a superhero team origin story, wrapped in the tone of an ancient legend.
Themes

Line-by-line

Two good friends had Hiawatha, / Singled out from all the others,
Longfellow starts off by immediately introducing us to Hiawatha's two friends, who are distinct from the rest. The expression "right hand of his heart" is a lovely way to convey both loyalty and deep affection. We also catch our first glimpse of what keeps this friendship strong: there’s no room for gossips or troublemakers to come between them.
Most beloved by Hiawatha / Was the gentle Chibiabos,
Longfellow presents Chibiabos using a series of contrasts — brave yet gentle, flexible yet dignified — to highlight how his character embodies a balance of opposites. By comparing him to a willow wand and a deer with antlers, he grounds Chibiabos in the natural world, which is significant because his music will soon be revealed to communicate directly with nature.
When he sang, the village listened; / All the warriors gathered round him,
Music serves as a unifying force here. Warriors and women, the strong and the gentle, all respond to Chibiabos in the same way. Longfellow chooses the verb "stirred" to convey passion and "melted" to express pity — active, physical words that make the emotional impact of the music feel almost tangible.
From the hollow reeds he fashioned / Flutes so musical and mellow,
The flutes are crafted from nature, and nature reacts in a similar way. The brook, bluebird, robin, and whippoorwill each take a moment to pause or make a sound — a technique known as personification. Each animal requests Chibiabos to show it a different emotional tone: wildness, sweetness, sadness. Together, they explore the entire spectrum of emotions that great music can express.
Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, / Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos,
This section has a formal, almost ritualistic feel — each creature gets its own stanza following the same structure. This repetition reflects the call-and-response style found in oral storytelling, echoing Longfellow's inspiration from the Finnish *Kalevala* and Indigenous oral traditions. Each creature's request reveals different aspects of music: it can flow, it can unleash wildness, it can offer comfort, and it can express sorrow.
All the many sounds of nature / Borrowed sweetness from his singing;
Longfellow concludes the Chibiabos section by highlighting the themes of his songs: peace, freedom, beauty, love, longing, death, and life after death. These are significant subjects. Chibiabos isn't merely an entertainer; he embodies the profound beliefs and hopes of his people, which is why Hiawatha holds him in such high regard.
Dear, too, unto Hiawatha / Was the very strong man, Kwasind,
The poem shifts focus to Kwasind, intentionally echoing the introduction of Chibiabos. While Chibiabos represents artistry, Kwasind embodies physical strength "allied to goodness"—showing that strength by itself isn't sufficient. Longfellow quickly adds complexity by noting that Kwasind appeared idle in his youth, hinting at a series of tales that will reveal a different story.
"Lazy Kwasind!" said his mother, / "In my work you never help me!
The mother’s complaint is clear and relatable — nets hanging wet at the door, ice needing to be broken in the winter. Kwasind's silence isn’t rudeness; it’s more of a controlled response. When he does finally take action, he wrings the nets with such force that he snaps them. His strength is so overwhelming that it seems out of place in everyday life. Longfellow uses this moment to reveal that Kwasind's seeming laziness is actually a form of careful self-restraint.
"Lazy Kwasind!" said his father, / "In the hunt you never help me;
The father's test leads Kwasind into the forest, where a blocked trail halts ordinary men in their tracks. The father lights his pipe and settles in—there's nothing to do but wait. Yet, before he finishes his smoke, Kwasind has cleared the whole path, tossing pine trees aside like arrows and hurling cedars like lances. The similes are quick and energetic, matching the pace of Kwasind's efforts.
"Lazy Kwasind!" said the young men, / As they sported in the meadow:
The young men’s taunt marks the third and final "Lazy Kwasind!" challenge, and Longfellow's use of repetition is intentional—it follows the folktale tradition where the third test is the most intense. Kwasind rips a boulder from the earth and hurls it into the river, which Longfellow notes can still be seen during summer. This detail grounds the legend in a tangible, observable setting.
Once as down that foaming river, / Down the rapids of Pauwating,
The beaver hunt stands out as Kwasind's greatest achievement, showcasing not only his strength but also his endurance and courage—he stays underwater so long that his companions worry he has drowned. When he triumphantly returns with the King of Beavers on his shoulders, it's a classic hero's moment, yet Longfellow presents it in a straightforward way. Kwasind doesn't brag about his success, and that humility is what earns him Hiawatha's friendship.
And these two, as I have told you, / Were the friends of Hiawatha,
The closing stanza revisits the opening, repeating the names and the phrase "spake with naked hearts together." This structural choice reflects the oral epic tradition, as the storyteller brings the audience back to what they've already heard. Instead of an adventurous conclusion, the final image depicts three friends sitting together, contemplating how to improve life for their community.

Tone & mood

The tone feels warm, ceremonial, and relaxed. Longfellow writes as if he's a storyteller sharing tales with an attentive audience, staying true to the tradition he's drawing from. He expresses genuine tenderness in his portrayal of both friends—there's no irony or detachment here. When humor appears in the poem (like Kwasind snapping the nets or the father taking a moment to smoke), it's lighthearted and never derisive. The prevailing sentiment is one of admiration: for friendship, for talent, and for strength that serves others.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The pathway between friends"Straight between them ran the pathway, / Never grew the grass upon it" vividly illustrates a dynamic, thriving friendship. A path remains clear only when people continue to walk it. If grass starts to grow over a path, it signifies neglect and abandonment. This single image encapsulates how Hiawatha, Chibiabos, and Kwasind nurture their connection.
  • Chibiabos's fluteMade from hollow reeds—materials sourced directly from nature—the flute embodies the notion that true art emerges from the world rather than imposing itself on it. The idea that nature falls silent to listen implies that great art complements the world instead of competing with it.
  • The boulder in the riverKwasind's thrown rock, which can still be seen in the summer, symbolizes a strength that is free of ego. He doesn’t throw it to boast — he throws it because the young men dared him, and he just answers the challenge. The rock's presence in the river connects the legend to an actual location, grounding the story in reality.
  • The King of BeaversAhmeek, the King of Beavers, is more than just a big animal. In various Indigenous traditions, beavers represent hard work and the stewardship of water. When Kwasind catches the King of Beavers, it shows his mastery over nature, but his silent approach and lack of showiness reflect his humility.
  • "Naked hearts"The phrase "spake with naked hearts together" appears twice, framing the entire poem. It conveys the idea of total honesty—no pretense, no self-defense. Amid all the remarkable gifts in the poem (like music and strength), Longfellow emphasizes that the most crucial element between friends is the genuine willingness to be completely open with one another.
  • The Islands of the Blessed / PonemahChibiabos sings about an afterlife — a place we call the Hereafter. These images serve as symbols of hope and continuity. They remind us that his music does more than entertain; it binds the community's spiritual life, offering a way for people to reflect on death without falling into despair.

Historical context

Longfellow published *The Song of Hiawatha* in 1855, during a time when American writers were eager to create a unique American mythology. He relied heavily on Henry Rowe Schoolcraft's ethnographic accounts of Ojibwe culture and legends, and he crafted the poem's trochaic tetrameter—characterized by its distinctive falling rhythm—based on the Finnish epic *Kalevala*. The poem became a huge success, selling thousands of copies within weeks of its release. "Hiawatha's Friends" is the fifth canto of the full epic. Longfellow's characters Chibiabos and Kwasind are inspired by Ojibwe oral tradition, although he adapted and romanticized them quite a bit. The poem occupies a complex space: it genuinely sought to honor Indigenous stories at a time when those communities were facing violent dispossession, yet it has faced criticism for oversimplifying the richness of Ojibwe culture within a European epic framework.

FAQ

The poem uses trochaic tetrameter, with each line featuring four pairs of stressed and unstressed syllables, creating a powerful, rhythmic beat. Longfellow took this meter from the Finnish epic *Kalevala*. The repetition is deliberate, reflecting oral storytelling traditions where repeating phrases assist listeners in keeping track of the narrative and remembering what they’ve heard. Once you hear it, it sticks in your mind.

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