He never had to regret his inability to climb trees, because danger never threatened him.

He had food regularly, and all he wanted, and it was such food! No one in his village could have dreamed of any delicacy of the many delicacies which he consumed all the time.

Because of these matters he even pulled through a light attack of home-sickness, and was as contented a human as ever sailed the seas.
And Kwaque it was who pulled Michael through the port-hole into Dag Daughtry's stateroom and waited for that worthy to arrive by the roundabout way of the door.

After a quick look around the room and a sniff of the bunk and under the bunk which informed him that Jerry was not present, Michael turned his attention to Kwaque.
Kwaque tried to be friendly.

He uttered a clucking noise in advertisement of his friendliness, and Michael snarled at this black who had dared to lay hands upon him--a contamination, according to Michael's training--and who now dared to address him who associated only with white gods.
Kwaque passed off the rebuff with a silly gibbering laugh and started to step nearer the door to be in readiness to open it at his master's coming.