If the reconnoitring party were captured, the certain doom of its members would be death by the most dreadful tortures.
Captain Jones pointed out David Crockett as one of the most suitable men for this enterprise.

Crockett unhesitatingly consented to go, and, by permission, chose a companion by the name of George Russel, a young man whose courage and sagacity were far in advance of his years.
"I called him up," writes Crockett, "but Major Gibson said he thought he hadn't beard enough to please him; he wanted men, not boys.

I must confess I was a little nettled at this; for I know'd George Russel, and I know'd there was no mistake in him; and I didn't think that courage ought to be measured by the beard, for fear a goat would have the preference over a man.

I told the Major he was on the wrong scent; that Russel could go as far as he could, and I must have him along.

He saw I was a little wrathy, and said I had the best chance of knowing, and agreed that it should be as I wanted it." The heroic little band, thirteen in number, well armed and well mounted, set out early in the morning on their perilous enterprise.
They crossed the Tennessee River, and directing their steps south, through a region almost entirely uninhabited by white men, journeyed cautiously along, keeping themselves concealed as much as possible in the fastnesses of the forest.