If there was an advertisement glorifying migrant life, it would probably describe a life free from obligation, where you can go where you want to and be in control of your own destiny.
Unfortunately, it was not that simple. The disclaimer would say that migrant life was hard. There were often vermin in the beds, lack of jobs, and tyrannical bosses. The work was hard, and you could lose your job just as easily as you got it. Men lived without their families if they had any, and never got a chance to make a family if they didn’t. They were given little to live in and paid even less.
You know how the hands are, they just come in and get their bunk and work a month, and then they quit and go out alone. Never seem to give a damn about nobody. (ch 3)
When a job was done, it became necessary to find another one. Sometimes you would travel long and far looking and come up empty, using up what little savings you have to tide you over.
Illness and injury were common. Ranch work, picking fruit, driving cattle, or doing any other migrant work was back-braking. The food was not plentiful, and often not healthy. Medical care was often primitive.