station-camp on the Nolachucky. There a warrior pointed his rifle at
her, as if to fire; but Oconostota threw up the barrel and began to
question her as to the strength of the whites. She gave him misleading
replies, with which he appeared satisfied, for he soon told her she was
not to be killed, but taken to their towns to teach their women how to
manage a dairy.

Those at the fort knew that Oconostota was near by on the Nolachucky,
but he had deferred the attack so long that they concluded the wary and
cautious old chief was waiting to be reinforced by the body under
Dragging-Canoe, which had gone to attack Fort Patrick Henry. News had
reached them of Shelby's victory, and, as it would be some time before
the broken Cherokees could rally and join Oconostota, they were in no
apprehension of immediate danger. Accordingly, they went about their
usual vocations, and so it happened that a number of the women ventured
outside the fort as usual to milk the cows on the morning of the 21st of
July. Among them was one who was destined to occupy for many years the
position of the "first lady in Tennessee."

Her name was Catherine Sherrell, and she was the daughter of Samuel
Sherrell, one of the first settlers on the Watauga. In age she was
verging upon twenty, and she was tall, straight as an arrow, and lithe
as a hickory sapling. I know of no portrait of her in existence, but
tradition describes her as having dark eyes, flexible nostrils, regular
features, a clear, transparent skin, a neck like a swan, and a wealth of
wavy brown hair, which was a wonder to look at and was in striking
contrast to the whiteness of her complexion. A free life in the open air
had made her as supple as an eel and as agile as a deer. It was said
that, encumbered by her womanly raiment, she had been known to place one
hand upon a six-barred fence and clear it at a single bound. And now her