The word itself, borrowed into English from Welsh, was used loosely by early cartographers and antiquarians to mean a megalithic tomb, typically a dolmen of upright stones capped by a large horizontal slab. The problem, in this case, is that the monument may not be one at all.

What survives today is a low, grass-grown mound, roughly circular in outline and about 6.3 metres in diameter. It rises only 0.2 metres at its north-east edge and 0.7 metres at its south-west, giving it a gently tilted, almost imperceptible profile in the surrounding pasture. A single large stone sits visible at the western edge, and a prostrate stone protrudes from the surface near the north. Two hawthorn bushes have taken hold on the south-west side. When Ruaidhri de Valera and Seán Ó Nualláin examined the site in 1964 as part of their survey of megalithic tombs in Connacht, they found that the mound had been used as a convenient dump for field clearance stone over the years, the kind of slow accumulation that can make an entirely ordinary rise in ground look, to a later eye, like something deliberate and ancient. Their conclusion was measured but definitive: the monument could not, on the available evidence, be accepted as the site of a megalithic tomb. The name on the map, it seems, may have outlasted whatever justification first put it there.