Puddleopedia | Entry / PolBinyan

As related by Tayra:

The other day, Tayra was strolling through the East Forest, and Lo! She came across the trunk of a stout tree brought down in a recent storm. Aware of Puddleby's need for building materials, she drew her trusty hatchet and started chopping. Unfortunately, she chopped in all the wrong places, leaving no single piece large enough to be useful in construction. Disappointed, she packed away her hatchet and resumed her journey.

Not ten paces further on, Tayra stumbled across a great limb from the same tree. Determined to obtain one good plank, she pruned all the little branches, then set about chopping off a big branch. Sadly, in her attempt she split the log all the way down. Thoroughly disheartened, she fell to the ground, buried her face in her arms, and wept. Absorbed by her grief, Tayra remained unaware that she had company until his deep voice brought her out of her reverie.

"Why are you crying?" said the voice, a rumbling bass so deep that if it laughed in the plains, it would cause avalanches in the mountains. Startled, Tayra looked up to see a giant of a man leaning on an axe handle made from an oak sapling. Dressed in heavy hobnailed boots, rough trousers and a fuzzy, plaid flannel shirt, he towered at least nine feet high. What made Tayra's eyes widen in astonishment, though, was his companion, an enormous blue starbuck resting its chin on its master's shoulder.

The giant tried to look concerned, but the merry amusement in his eyes as they took in Tayra's little hatchet and the big pile of splintered wood betrayed that he had already guessed the cause of her grief. Undaunted, Tayra stood up, squared her shoulders, and described her plight. "If I had known what I was doing," she concluded, "I'd have been able to contribute to Puddleby's building efforts."

"Hmm," he rumbled, an expression Tayra felt in her chest more than heard. "I think I can help you." He turned around and bellowed, "I need a dead tree to volunteer for a lesson... NOW!" Four dry, leafless trees promptly toppled over with an immense crash, a myriad of birds, rats and vermines fled the area, and sixteen ferals died of fright.

After a few suggestions from the man, Tayra could extract a plank from most pieces of fallen wood. "I don't know how to thank you," gasped Tayra, winded from her efforts.

"Ho, ho, ho!" The great man's hearty laughter boomed like thunder in the hills. "No need, no need. A job well done is its own reward. And," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "your scraps will keep my house warm for a month! When you're ready for another lesson, I'll be delighted to teach you. The world always needs good lumberjacks."

"How will I find you?" inquired Tayra.

"Easy," he rumbled. "Any time you're in the forests, just call out my name... Pol Binyan!" He then clucked to his blue companion. "Come on, Babe. We have work to do." Tayra stood and watched in admiration as their two immense figures silently vanished into the trees.