Animals traveled well, did not appear tired.

Feed fine all over.

Plenty water everywhere.
Not much like Bud's auto stage, was it?
But the very novelty of it, the harking back to old plains days, appealed to him and sent him forward from dull hardship to duller discomfort, and kept the quirk at the corners of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes.

Bud liked to travel this way, though it took them all day long to cover as much distance as he had been wont to slide behind him in an hour.

He liked it--this slow, monotonous journeying across the lean land which Cash had traversed years ago, where the stark, black pinnacles and rough knobs of rock might be hiding Indians with good eyesight and a vindictive temperament.
Cash told him many things out of his past, while they poked along, driving the packed burros before them.