He wanted to be with him, first and sharply, because he loved him, and, second and dimly, because he might serve him.

And, wanting Skipper, in his helplessness and youngness in experience of the world, he whimpered and cried his heart out across the companion combing, and was too clean and direct in his sorrow to be deflected by an outburst of anger against the niggers, on deck and below, who chuckled at him and derided him.
From the crest of the combing to the cabin floor was seven feet.

He had, only a few hours before, climbed the precipitous stairway; but it was impossible, and he knew it, to descend the stairway.

And yet, at the last, he dared it.

So compulsive was the prod of his heart to gain to Skipper at any cost, so clear was his comprehension that he could not climb down the ladder head first, with no grippingness of legs and feet and muscles such as were possible in the ascent, that he did not attempt it.