Atharva Veda 6.50

Against petty destroyers of grain

Smite, O Açvins, the borer, the samān̄ká, the rat; split their head; crush in their ribs; lest they eat the barley, shut up their mouth; then make fearlessness for the grain.

Hey, borer! hey, locust! hey, grinder, upakvasa! as a priest (brahman) an unfinished oblation, not eating this barley, go up away, doing no harm.

O lord of borers, lord of vághā's! with arid jaws do ye (pl.) listen to me: what devourers (vyadvará) there are of the forest, and whatever devourers ye are, all them do we grind up.