"But," began Roger, his ardor cooling as he thought for the first time of the chances of being nipped by the bees, "isn't it dangerous to go out among the hives, even with these veils on?"
"Not a bit," replied Adrian.
But when he saw his cousin heading for the midst of the collection of hives, Roger became somewhat apprehensive, in spite of the assurance. He hung back a bit.
"There won't be any danger for you," said Adrian, observing his hesitation. "I'll put you in a safe place, but if a buzzer or two does come singing around you once in a while just keep perfectly still and it won't hurt you. In fact it can't get at you with the veil on. You can have a pair of gloves, too, so every part of you will be protected. Come on."
Thus assured, though still a trifle doubtful, Roger advanced. As they walked along the path to the orchard Roger noticed that Adrian carried what looked like a big funnel, on the bottom or large part of which was a leather bellows.
"To smoke the bees."
"Smoke the bees?"
"Yes; you'll see in a minute."
On the edge of the apiary was a tool house and another building where the honey and bee hives were stored in for winter, for here in the north bees cannot exist through the cold weather out of doors. Entering the tool house Adrian collected some small pieces of wood and some shavings, and built a little fire in the tin funnel, to which the bellows was attached, using the folded leather arrangement to make a good draught.