Mikololou and Kaahupahau reach far away New York, 1905.

The Battle of the Shark Gods

A Story of the Hawaiian Islands

ONE day Kaahupahau and her brother Kahiuka wandered away from their grass-thatched cottage, on the banks of the beautiful Ewa Lagoon, on the Hawaiian Island of Maui. The long afternoon passed without causing any worry to their father or mother. But when dusk fell on the long swells of the Pacific ocean and neither of the children had returned for their evening meal of poi and plantains, the parents became alarmed. Continue reading


Opening of S. N. Haleole’s telling of the story of Laieikawai, 1862.





{Pertaining to Laieikawai.—The Moolelo Kaao was held by the one publishing this story in his Book of Moolelo for eighteen years and three months, beginning in the month of August, 1844. And the one with the Book of Moolelo comes Kailiokalauokekoa. But it is not only these stories in the Book of Moolelo; the moolelo of Painahala as well, has been preserved in the month of October, 1847. The length of this story is like the story whose title appears in this introduction; being that Laieikawai is 375 pages and Painahala is 363; but the telling of Painahala is almost the same as Keamalu, except the grandmother is different. Continue reading

Laieikawai and Death of Cook at the Opera House, 1902.

Next Attraction at the Opera House.

There was a very good rehearsal last evening of the Hawaii Ponoi Dramatic Club in their hall on Kaahumanu street. This club will give a dramatic entertainment next Saturday evening at the Opera House. Continue reading

A translation of the Grimm’s “Fisherman and His Wife,” 1873.


In times long past, there lived a fisherman and his wife in their hovel near the sea; each day the man often went fishing. There he fished with a pole and looked out onto the flat sea for many days. One morning, he let out his line until it hit deep below, and when he raised it up, he hooked a huge Flounder [Oopukai]. When it appeared at the surface, it pleaded in a human voice, “Let me go, O Fisherman; I am not a real fish, but I am an enchanted prince. What would be the good of you pulling me up to the land? There is nothing of me to eat, so let me free into the sea so that I can swim away.”

[The beginning of the translation of “The Fisherman and His Wife” goes something like that. I am not sure what version this was translated from or who the translator was.]

(Kuokoa, 3/8/1873, p. 6)


Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, Buke XII, Helu 10, Aoao 6. Maraki 8, 1873.

O Ku o Ka o Ku o Ka! 1908.

[Found under: “Ka Moolelo Kaao o Hiiaka-i-ka-Poli-o-Pele”]

At that point she [Wahineomao] turned and headed back. She set her eyes upon her aikane [Hiiaka and Pauopalae]. And then she once again intoned the words which her aikane [Hiiaka] taught her: “O Ku, o Ka, o Ku, o Ka.” Continue reading