and each night , creeping a little closer to the tent , inching his way over the woodland blanket of decaying leaves and moist loamy soil until his shadow rose in the narrow opening of the tent and fell over her , and the tent was filled with her smell , and there would be the sleeping girl clutching the teddy bear and the hunter holding his gun , one dreaming of the life that was taken from her , the other thinking of the life he 'd take .