It is a modest thing, barely six metres long and not quite six wide, raised only forty centimetres above the surrounding grass, with limestone flags set on edge forming a partial kerb along its eastern side. The western edge has been disturbed by the insertion of a rain-collection unit at some point, which lends the site an oddly domestic intrusion into what is otherwise a place of quiet gravity.

Local tradition holds that the men buried here were O'Flahertys, Connemara men killed in 1584, a violent episode recorded by James Hardiman in his 1846 work on the history of Connacht. The O'Flahertys were one of the dominant Gaelic dynasties of west Connacht during the medieval and early modern periods, and the late sixteenth century was a period of intense disruption across the region, as English crown authority pressed deeper into territories that had long operated under Gaelic law. Whether these particular men were killed in a raid, a feud, or as part of the broader upheaval of that era, the local name and the tradition of their identity have persisted for centuries on an island that has retained an unusually long memory for such things. The site was noted by Tim Robinson in 1980, whose meticulous mapping of the Aran Islands brought many such quietly held places to wider attention.