It measures just 2.45 metres by 1.3 metres internally, barely large enough for a person to lie down, and yet it was built with deliberate care: a flanking upright slab at the entrance, a niche worked into the western corner, and three roofing lintels still in place at the northwestern end. Five sheepfolds nearby suggest this was working land, and the hut was almost certainly connected to that work, a seasonal shelter for whoever managed the flocks on the hill.

The structure is drystone, meaning it was built without mortar, its stones carefully selected and stacked to hold one another in place through weight and geometry alone. This technique has been used in Ireland for thousands of years, and huts of this type are associated across the uplands with the practice of booleying, the seasonal movement of livestock to higher summer pastures. The person sheltering here would have been present for weeks at a time, watching animals, sleeping in a space little bigger than a cupboard, with a wall-niche perhaps holding a candle or a small tool. At 1.6 metres high, there is just enough room to stand. The walls are half a metre thick, which in a structure this size is a considerable proportion of the total width, built for warmth and weather rather than comfort or permanence.