Once the pieces were laid out, something ugly came down. Targum Pseudo-Jonathan on Genesis 15:11 calls it plainly: idolatrous peoples, like unclean birds, descending on the sacrifices of Israel to steal them away.
The image is not subtle, and it is not meant to be. Where the Hebrew simply says birds of prey came down on the carcasses, the Targum reads the scene forward. Those are not ravens. Those are nations. Empires with beaks. Kingdoms that will one day swoop on Israel's altars and try to carry off what belongs to God.
And then the Targum gives the countermove: the righteousness of Abram was a shield over them. The merits of the first Jew function like a canopy. The vultures descend; the covenant is not carried off. Not because the pieces are hidden, but because Abraham's zekhut — his accumulated righteousness — is already standing guard.
The Maggid hears how much this verse trusts one life. One man's faithfulness in Canaan is enough to shelter generations of sacrifices yet to be offered in a Temple that has not been built. The Targum teaches that righteousness is portable across time. Abraham's deeds in Genesis 15 are still pushing the birds off Israel's altar centuries later (Genesis 15:11). Good done now protects altars you will never live to see.