There is no way around this: At 4:30 a.m., as we embark on the two-hour journey that will take us to some hunting grounds in northwest South Africa, a.k.a. “the Bush,” Rebecca Francis is wearing a full-on smoky eye. Her lids are lined and her lashes plumped, her lips shimmer a glossy pink. She is carrying her weapon, a Mathews Chill SDX dual-cam bow with hot-pink detailing, marketed to women “who may be small in stature, but demand big performance,” and from which she has every intention of plunging an arrow into the chest of a 500-pound sable antelope, where it will, if all goes as planned, pierce the animal’s lungs. Am I underdone? I wonder, a thought I immediately recognize as insane.
This story is from the July 27-August 9, 2015 edition of New York magazine.
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This story is from the July 27-August 9, 2015 edition of New York magazine.
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