The Death of Billy Simms

“Vengeance is Mine!” sayeth the Lord, but I knew I could never comply

So I chased the man called Billy Sims to the edge of the Arctic sky.

From far out on the prairies, to the rim of perpetual ice

I tracked the thief who’d stolen the heart, of my young and beautiful wife.

For a year I had trailed this murderous wretch, a year where I suffered and bled

Knowing I’d follow his thieving hide, no matter where his trail led.

From ninety above, to sixty below, I stayed on the wandering track

Of Billy Sims, and the hate was so strong, I knew I could never turn back.

From my beautiful farm to the edge of hell, he raced in heedless flight

Trying to run from the crimes he’d done, that violent sin filled night.

The tracks had led from my homestead bed, to the edge of the Arctic ice,

Not Billy’s alone that staggered on, but also those of my wife.

By the fire at night, I sat alone and stared into the leaping flames

Exhausted in body and mindless of all but the sound of his thieving name.

“Billy Sims, Billy Sims” was all I could hear o’er the sound of the frozen wind

And his death was all that I dreamed of-- and the way I would do him in.

Through endless miles of lonely trail, in a land that seemed frozen and dead

I cared nothing at all for the endless pain but thought of revenge instead.

At night as I lay in my goose-down, and the ice of the river cracked

I saw in my mind the bloody end of the perfidious pair I tracked.

In front of me they ran for their lives, and the tracks told me the tale

Of a thieving man, and a woman who ran, to live with him on the trail.

A tale as old as hell itself, of love betrayed and spurned

And I followed on, each frozen dawn, while the need for vengeance burned.

The tundra was endless, a frozen waste, and the air was thick with frost

The nights were as black as the thoughts I held, but I cared not what the cost

I’d find this pair and in despair he’d gasp out his last breath.

This Billy Simms who’d stolen my life, and left me close to death.

And often my mind returned to my farm, and all that I once held dear.

A life of love and happiness far south on the western frontier

Where we’d carved a life in the prairie’s sod, my beautiful wife and I

And now she’d run off with Billy Simms, after leaving me there to die.

And while I followed that endless trail, I dreamed of how it would end

I’d find their camp and walk right up and shoot him again and again.

I dreamed of the look in his thieving eyes as he saw me raise my gun

And my lips would curl in a frozen snarl, and I’d whip my dogs to a run.

Week after week, and month after month, I followed the trail ahead

‘Til it became the focus of my life, and I cared not where it led.

Winding down the frozen rivers, climbing the mountain crests

I knew only the heat of my revenge, and cared nothing of food nor rest.

And then one day as I pushed the sleigh up a ridge, then started down

I noticed a haze in the distant sky, and the lights of a little town.

I whipped the dogs ‘til they cried and whined; Billy’s tracks led arrow straight

Right into that frozen hamlet, and up to the Mountie’s gate.

“Where is that thieving yellow dog!” I yelled as I pushed inside

“I aim to blow his brains out, and nail up his yellow hide!”

It was gloomy in that little room, and awful hard to see

But I heard the click of a scattergun and I saw it was aimed at me.

The Mountie stood with his back to the wall, a shotgun in his hand

His Red Serge suit was cleaned and pressed, his face was leather tanned.

He stood six-four, and he blocked the door that led to the only cell

And from the gloom in that other room came Billy’s terrified yell…

“Shoot him! Shoot him” Billy cried, “I’m telling you that’s him!

He’s the guy who’s dogged my trail! Now he’s trying to do me in!

My wife and I don’t know the guy! I fear he’s quite insane!

He’s put us both through hell and back! So shoot him! Then shoot him

again!”

The Mountie’s shotgun never moved, his eyes stayed upon my face

“Now perhaps you’ll want to tell me friend, what’s your part in this race?

But first—and very carefully-- set your rifle on the floor

Or this scattergun will send you backwards through that entry door.”

All I could think of at the time were the months I’d tracked them down

Of endless miles through frozen waste, which led finally to this town.

The months of lonely campfires; the winter’s deadly chill;

The endless burning for revenge on this man I’d come to kill.

“The man you have inside your jail is a liar through and through

He tried to kill me, stole my wife, then stole my lead-dog too!

He’s nothing but a thieving skunk—and worse-- that I’ve observed.

Now, if you’ll kindly step aside, he’ll get what he deserves!”

‘No! don’t let him near me!” Billy hollered, petrified.

“He’s mad! I tell you! Gone quite mad! Don’t let him here inside!

I don’t know why this man pursues me, and wants to take my life

But if he’ll agree, instead of me, he can have back his little wife!”

The Mountie kind of blinked at that, but still he blocked the door

Then from the cell room came a thud as something hit the floor

Who would have thought… that gentle gal…Why, bless the little tart!

She’d taken out her jackknife and stabbed Billy though the heart.

Now all that happened years ago, but the memory never dims

And I often sit and ponder ‘bout the death of Billy Simms.

I never can quite understand, how come Billy hadn’t learned

That you cannot trust a woman scorned, when ‘ere your back is turned!

~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~

It is interesting to me tonight, to be sitting here in a warm room on the B.C. coast, listening to the rain pouring down and thinking of those cold cold nights by the campfire in the Yukon while out on the trapline. Sometimes I'd just sit, wrapped in a big parka, staring into the roaring flames, and recite Robert Service.

Some of those nights were awful long and cold, and I guess they all went into writing the story of Billy Simms above.

I now wonder , "How many times did Sam McGee get cremated in those years?" And so too, I wonder how many times Billy Simms is doomed to be chased and hunted down, only to be stabbed through the heart by his one-time Sweetheart?