Insectivores, originally. If the radiation killed off everything but the insects, these would be the first to move in again.' He squatted and swept one up in his glove and held it for her to see. She didn't look, but Stupid did, and he wasn't happy. 'The smallest but most vicious mammal of all. Two inches long, sharp teeth, deadly nerve poison though there isn't enough of it in a shrew to kill a human being. This creature will attack anything that lives, and it eats twice its own weight in meat in a day.'
Sola was dancing about, trying to avoid the charging midgets. 'She did not seem to be foolishly afraid of them, as some women were, but certainly did not want them on her body or under her feet. 'Look!' she screamed. 'They're-.'
He had already seen it. A dozen of the tiny animals were scrambling into the tent, climbing over Sol, sniffing out the best places to bite.
Sos lunged at them, smacking the ground with the club while Sola struck with the sticks, but the horde had arrived in a mass. For every one they killed with clumsy blows a score were charging past, miniature teeth searching. The 'little bodies of the casualties were quickly torn apart by others and consumed.
The troops were small, but this was full-scale war.
'We can't fight them all!' Sos gasped. 'Into the water!' They opened the tent and hauled Sol out by his arms and splashed into the river. Sos waded to chest height, shaking off the determined tiny monsters. He discovered that his arms were bleeding from multiple scratches inflicted by the shrews. He hoped he was wrong about their poison; he, and Sola must already have sustained more than enough bites to knock them out, if the effect were cumulative.
The little bundles of viciousness balked at the waterline, and for a moment he thought the maneuver had been successful. Then the hardier individuals plunged in and began swimming across, beady eyes fixed upon the target. More splashed in after them, until the surface of the river was covered with furry bodies.
'We've got to get away from them!' Sos shouted. 'Swim for it!' Stupid had already flown to the opposite shore, and was perched anxiously upon a bush. No mystery any more why the surface of the land was clean!
'But the tents, the supplies-'
She was right. They had to have a tent, or nightfall would leave them exposed to the moths. Sheer numbers would protect the army of shrews, but all larger animals were vulnerable. 'I'll go back for them!' he said, hooking his forearm under Sol's chin' and striking out sidestroke for the bank. He had thrown aside the club somewhere; it was useless, anyway.
They outdistanced the animals and stumbled onto land. Sola bent down to give the patient what attention she could while Sos plunged back into the water for one of the most unpleasant tasks of his life. He swam across, stroking more strongly now that he had no burden-but at the far side he had to cut through the living layer of carnivores. His face was at their level.
He gulped a breath and ducked under, swimming as far as he could before coming up for air. Then he braced his feet against the bottom and launched himself upward at an angle. He broke water, spraying shrews in every direction, drew his breath through clenched teeth and dived again.
At the shore he lurched out, stepping on squealing struggling fur, swept up the nearest pack and ripped his standing tent loose from its moorings. If only they had folded them and put the things away. . . but Sol's illness had pre-empted everything.
The creatures were everywhere, wriggling over and inside the pack and through the folds of the bunched tent. Their pointed hairy snouts nuzzled at his face, the needle teeth seeking purchase, as he clasped the baggage to his chest. He shook the armful, not daring to stop running, but they clung tight, mocking him, and leaped for his eyes the moment he stopped.
He dived clumsily into the water, feeling the living layer he landed upon, and kicked violently with his feet. He could not submerge, this time; the pack had been constructed to float, the tent had trapped a volume of air and both arms were encumbered. Still the tiny devils danced, upon the burden and clawed over his lips and nose, finding ready anchorage there. He screwed his eyes shut and continued kicking, hoping he was going in the right direction, while things scrambled through his hair and bit at his ears and tried 'to crawl inside earholes and nostrils. He heard Stupid's harsh cry, and knew that the bird had flown to meet him and been routed; at least he could stay clear by flying. Sos kept his teeth clenched, sucking air through them to prevent the attackers from entering there, too.
'Sos! Here!'
Sola was calling him. Blindly grateful, he drove for the sound-end then he was out of the lumpy soup and swimming through clear water. He had outdistanced them again!
The water had infiltrated the pack and tent, nullifying their buoyancy, and he was able to duck his head and open his
