That is, in a sense, the point. Three stones once stood here in a triangular arrangement, recorded on the 1904 Ordnance Survey six-inch map and positioned roughly forty metres north of another possible prehistoric stone grouping nearby. Today there is no visible surface trace of any of them, which makes Tooreenbane a peculiar kind of archaeological site: one that survives only in maps, in brief notes, and in the memory of what was done to it.

A 1937 account by a researcher named Broker offers the most vivid description. On land belonging to a man called Tim Kelliher, atop the mountain, stood two upright stones three or four feet high with a girth of eight feet, and between them lay a flat flag four feet wide and six feet long. This arrangement, two uprights flanking a recumbent slab, is consistent with a boulder burial or a related prehistoric monument type found across Cork and Kerry. Broker recorded a local tradition attached to the site: that a figure named Donal Damanta was buried there. The name itself is striking; "damanta" is an Irish word carrying connotations of damnation or cursedness, and it attaches a whiff of transgression to whoever was said to lie beneath the stone. The note is brief, but it hints at the kind of marginal, uneasy memory that communities sometimes preserve around ancient monuments. What ended the site was entirely practical. The stones were removed by a man named Matthew Twomey to be used as a gullet, a drainage channel or culvert, under a road. Prehistoric megaliths repurposed as road infrastructure is not unheard of in rural Ireland, but it rarely comes with such precise attribution.