Tiveragh is a unique shaped hill which looks like a camel's hump, in geological terms it is the remains of a volcanic plug but in mythology, it is something else. Tiveragh is known as ‘the fairy hill.’ One side is pasture land for sheep while the other side is rough ground. It is said that the hill is inhabited by both good and bad fairies who live inside. Tiveragh has a ‘fairy tree’ halfway up the slope of the good side and nobody would dare think about cutting it down for fear of what would happen to them. According to local folklore, the fairies, or ‘wee folk' occasionally make an appearance around the tree, especially around Halloween. It is also said that the bad fairies have been known to lure the unsuspecting visitor into the hill by playing enchanting music, never more to be seen. The following is a poem  by H. Browne which explains all.

On Tiveragh Hill near Cushendall: I heard a commotion behind the wall: I stopped and I looked over, and boys o’ boys! : Now what do you think was makin’ the noise? - T’was a hurley match and I may choke: It was two wee teams of the fairy folk: That was rippin’ and tearing and weltin’ away: In the light of the moon that was bright as the day. - And their playing pitch was hardly as big: As my Uncle Barney’s potato rig: And me there watchin’ them puck and clout; At the back o’ the wall with my eyes stuck out. - When all at once, like the squeal of a hare: A wee voice shouted ‘Who’s that up there?’ : And a bit of a thing about nine inches tall: Came climbing up to the top of the wall. - And he stood there, he stood pot-size: With his two wee fingers up at my eyes: And it’s God’s own truth that I’m speaking mind: ye Get out o’that, says he, or I’ll blind thee! - Aye that’s what he said, I’ll blind ye!, says he. : And by jing what he said was enough for me: Did I run? Aye surely, I didn’t miss: And I haven’t seen Tiveragh from that day to this.