Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from The Mother of All Living: A Novel of Africa
But that was not quite all. There was another message in the reeling miles. Sometimes they spun through the thick forests of wattle plantations, the trees gleaming silver in the sun that filtered between their leaves, and she took in every detail - the piled logs in the clearings, the stripped bark arranged in long rows to dry, the acres of young trees, and the burnt patches of old ones. But there lurked a mystery, it seemed to her, in those lonely plantations. Or again they climbed out on to the hills of a native reserve, and she looked out over the undulating veld, the rounded kopjes and the deep-cut valleys. Little patches of unfenced cultivation clung to the sides of them, and on the crests clustered the brown thatched huts silent and deserted in the sun. She wanted to get out and look in. At school, the girls had listened entranced to her casual references to 'boys' and black folk, but back here the fact that she was living among an alien race who set her standard of conventionalities at defiance, suddenly confronted her as a new thing.
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