That slight depression is not accidental decay but a structural feature: a low earthen bank runs around the top of the mound, roughly five metres across, creating the impression of a hollow. Around the base, twenty-five stones form a broken ring, barely nudging above ground level, easy to miss entirely if you are not looking for them. The overall mound measures just under eleven metres in diameter and rises to about one and a half metres, modest dimensions for a Bronze Age burial mound of this type, which would typically have covered a central interment, sometimes a stone cist containing cremated remains.

In 1842, the antiquarian John Windele came here and dug. Windele was a Cork-born scholar with a particular appetite for megalithic monuments, and he recorded what he found in terms that have survived through a later account by O'Mahoney published in 1909. He noted the hollow on top, roughly two and a half feet deep and eleven feet across, and the ring of stones at the base. Then his party drove a tunnel in from the eastern side. They found nothing, no cist, no bones, no grave goods, and abandoned the excavation. Whether the mound was always empty, whether an earlier investigation had already cleared it, or whether the burial simply lay elsewhere and was never reached, is not something Windele could answer and the record has not resolved since. The tunnel itself is presumably still in there somewhere, a Victorian dead end inside a prehistoric hill.