March 7
Mail goes out tomorrow
Happy Easter – Mamma dear

Ross River
March 1 st 1930

Dear Mamma

This will have to be just a short letter – as Billy Atkinson will leave with the mail in a few days – and there is so much to write now – all our spring ordering and everything. I have just recently finished a big letter to you, answering your wonderful winter mail – but I must write again – to let you know that my Claude has returned !

We did not expect him – even now – but he never wasted a moment – just kept on traveling all the time – so that he should get back as soon as possible. The trip has told on him – he is painfully thin, now – really haggard looking – and the dogs are so tired – they've been resting ever since – but Claude's appetite is simply enormous – so I think he'll soon regain his normal weight.

I must tell you all about his homecoming.

Roy – and the rest of the folks said they thought he'd get here about Tuesday (that is next Tuesday) I said I would begin to look for him today (Sunday) – but I would not begin to worry – if he did not show up before Tuesday. Well, yesterday I planned to go on a picnic with the Martin children. We started fairly early in the morning – and planned to have our tea on a portage about three miles below us. When we left I told Roy that we were going to bring Claude home. He laughed – and said I was ahead of myself.

We had two dog teams – and had an uproariously good time going down the river. When we arrived at the portage – and selected the place we wanted to make our camp – I suggested that we pull the dogs off the trail (half jokingly) – in case the Sergeant should come along on his return.

Accordingly – we wallowed through snow waist deep – to get to a convenient place.

We soon had a fire going – camp made – and meat sizzling in the frying pan. Not long ago I gave one of the Martin boys a whistle which I used to use to call Claude in case of necessity. He had it with him – and so I said “Let me blow your whistle for the Sergeant.” I blew our old call – three short times – but there was no response.

We finished our meal – had packed our lunch sacks – and Robert was just turning the dog teams around when he said “Someone is coming!” In a moment I heard someone say “It's Sergeant!” – and sure enough – through the trees I could see first Malt – then Hops – then Pelly – then Jack – then Yeast – and then – my sweetheart – coming along the trail. I was so afraid he'd drive on past before he saw us – and in my haste to get to the trail – my foot caught in the deep snow – between two covered branches of a tree – and it seemed to take me ages to get it free. I did so, at last – but by that time Claude had stopped, of course. He saw our smoke long before he got to the portage – but I never thought of that.

Well – the picnic broke up rather abruptly – and I rode home triumphantly on top of Claude's load – pulled by our own darling dogs. Claude's kiss felt very rough – he had not shaved for so long – he looked like a hobo – but he was the same dear Claude – and Gee I was happy!

He brought a few of the latest letters from Whitehorse among which was your darling letter of Jan. 18 . I have just finished reading it aloud to Claude and as usual he said “Mother Ryder certainly writes a wonderful letter.” – And so you do!

Do not worry that we have had a severe winter – we haven't. That is – not for this country. It has been unusually mild – we really do not like it to be as warm as zero – for that makes the trails soft – and the traveling hard. 40 and 60 below of course – aren't ideal – but they are better than 40 above – when things begin to thaw – that's just awful.

It sounded awful when you said you'd shoveled several tons of coal – Why don't you get one of those electric heaters?

I'm so glad you have your refrigerator – and when you get the heater – and if you get Anna Kruder [?] to stay with you then next winter – and if you stay well – and if Honey comes – I shall be happy.

You are always so brave – and cheerful! It's just wonderful to have a letter from you. I hope that when I hear again, you will say that you have bought the dress, I am so anxious for you to have as a birthday gift from us.

Claude was pleased to know that his Christmas story was published – and that folks seemed to like it. He never expected that it would be printed – but I am glad for his sake that it was.

I'm certainly counting on Honey's making a fortune out of writing Northern yarns. When she comes along - she shall find a quiet room – and I know she will be able to do it. Bless her heart – I have so much to tell her in my next letter – everything is working out gloriously and I am so happy about it!

I am so sorry to hear of Ida Mayer's recent illness – and Mrs. Walch's [?] death has been such a shock that I have been terrible depressed since I first heard about it – yesterday. I loved Mrs. Walch and my heart goes out to the family. Oh it is just awful – I think!

As to Mark – since he wants the matter dripped I won't say anything more bout it – I have already expressed my sentiments to him and you. It's a shame – that's all I can say. I think it's great though that he has been new work – as you say – he is lucky in these hard times. Anna has written so faithfully. Bless her heart. I hope her teeth have stopped ‘crumbling.'

With a world of love and best wishes. I am your faithful Mary. – You will be hearing again before the boat. Clause is here with me – and sends a love kiss to “Mother Ryder.”

[written in side margin] P.S. Please take good care of yourself – I hate to hear that you have even a “touch” of sciatica