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.  They crossed the river, at what was called Ditto’s Landing, and advancing about seven miles beyond, found a very secluded spot, one of nature’s hiding-places, where they took up their encampment for the night.

Here they chanced to come across a man by the name of John Haynes, who for several years had been a trader among the Indians.  He was thoroughly acquainted with the whole region about to be traversed, and consented to act as a guide.  For the next day’s march, instructed by their guide, the party divided into two bands, following along two obscure trails, which came together again after winding through the wilderness a distance of about twenty miles.  Major Gibson led a party of seven, and David Crockett the other party of six.

The Cherokee Indians, a neighboring nation, powerful and warlike, were not in alliance with the Creeks in this war.  They were, at that time, in general friendly to the whites.  Many of their warriors were even induced to join the whites and march under their banners.  On each of the trails that day to be passed over, there was the lodge of a Cherokee Indian.  Both of them were friendly.  Each of the parties was to collect all the information possible from these Indians, and then to meet where the trails came together again.

When Crockett arrived at the wigwam of the Indian he met with a very friendly reception.  He also found there a half-breed Cherokee, by the name of Jack Thompson.  This man, of savage birth and training, but with the white man’s blood in his veins, offered to join the reconnoitring party.  He however was not ready just then to set out, but in a few hours would follow and overtake the band at its night’s encampment.