That uncertainty is not a caveat; it is the whole point. The stone has been searched for twice in recent decades and found neither time, leaving it in that particular category of archaeological object that is known mainly through a single report and has since, in all practical terms, disappeared.

The record of the stone's existence comes from a Dr. Jackson, who visited the site at some point in the mid-twentieth century and submitted an undated report to the National Museum. His description is specific enough to suggest he saw it clearly: a substantial boulder, roughly one and a half metres long, one metre wide, and sixty-five centimetres high, set into boggy ground. On its surface he recorded three complete incised crosses and the right half of a fourth. Cross-inscribed stones of this kind are found across Ireland and are generally associated with early Christian activity, the crosses cut into natural boulders or worked slabs as markers of sacred space or personal devotion. What makes Jackson's account more unusual is the additional detail he noted alongside the crosses: a small raised flat area on the stone's surface, and beside it a shallow circular depression about sixty-five centimetres in diameter, with a small hole at its centre, just two centimetres wide and a little over five centimetres deep. The function of such a feature is not recorded, though small carved hollows, sometimes called bullauns, appear on early medieval stones elsewhere in Ireland and have accumulated various folk associations over the centuries. Whether this hollow belongs to the same tradition is impossible to say without seeing the stone. When surveyors returned to the field in 1995, and again in 2019, the boulder could not be found. The peaty ground that Jackson described as the setting may itself be part of the explanation; boggy soil shifts and accumulates, and a stone embedded in it in the mid-twentieth century could, by now, be considerably less visible than it once was.