Adventures of a leopard. Barsik's little adventure (1 photo)

Description of flash game

Adventures on the Island

Island Tribe 2

We invite you to a great adventure in the strategy game "Island Adventure". Here you will learn the story of a tribe of Indians, whose area was hit by a volcano, and now, in search of a new refuge, they came to the island. The island is full of mysteries, mysterious caves, artifacts and treasures. But in order to inhabit it, you will have to work hard, since there is nothing on the island yet. Here you will be in the role of an Indian who wants to develop this island for the life of his tribe.

You will need to build different structures that will bring resources, ranging from wood to water. You need these resources for further buildings, because if one resource is missing, then you will not be able to unlock the remaining stages. At each level you are given a certain area of the island that you need to inhabit. At the beginning, you will have several paths to make moves, by choosing one of which you decide what the fate of the remaining closed objects will be. In Island Adventure, you need to think strategically and quickly to complete a level successfully. After all, a limited amount of time is allocated for completion. Also keep in mind that the island will be attacked by pirates hunting for treasure. We'll have to defend ourselves.

The Adventure of Barsik the Cat

In a great mood, having eaten too much sour cream, the cat Barsik went out for a walk along the ledge of the ninth floor balcony. Moving forward, Barsik at the end of the path rested his head on the whitewashed wall. Then he decided to turn around, but he could not stay on the narrow plank and began to slowly but inevitably fall down. An outside observer could see that a free fall was not part of the cat’s plans, because he, having instinctively waved his paws a couple of times (which didn’t help him much), rolled his eyes and began to scream heart-rendingly, rapidly picking up speed.

A few floors below, Uncle Fedya was smoking on the balcony, by the will of fate, crossing the flight path of the cat with his no longer curly head, basking in the sun and from time to time spitting down on the painters, who, due to duty, were suspended in a cradle on the third floor and allegorically swearing Uncle Fedya. Attracted by the unusual sound, Uncle Fedya looked up. Something dark was approaching from above, eclipsing the sun. A second later he realized that it was something not only dark, but also soft.

The badger grabbed the head of his savior with all available paws and, without ceasing to scream, released his claws in joy. Uncle Fedya did not share the cat’s joy. Having watched enough films about aliens, he classified the object that fell from above as an unidentified flying object and screamed out of fear even louder than Barsik. With their desperate cries, they attracted the attention of the old women hanging out on a bench in the yard. “What a shame!” - one of them concluded, then spat and shook her stick somewhere in the direction of the new buildings.

A couple of minutes later, Uncle Fedya pulled the scratching Barsik away from his face and, spinning him around, threw the stranger back where he came from, that is, up. On the floor above, the plumber Zabuldygin lived and lived and drank away his good fortune, severely suffering in the morning from chronic hangover syndrome. Sitting in the kitchen and looking at the clock, then out the window, the locksmith thought about life. At 10.01, reminiscent of a downed fighter jet in its behavior and roar, a neighbor’s cat flew down. At 10.03 the neighbor's cat flew back and froze for a moment at the highest point of its trajectory; spreading his paws to the sides, he spun around his axis, reminding the mechanic of the Ka-50 Black Shark helicopter, and, unable to cope with the laws of physics, much less the laws of aerodynamics, continued his fall. Zabuldygin firmly decided to quit drinking.

Barsik, almost without splashing the paint, entered the bucket like a fish (all judges - 9 points). Having made sure that the liquid in the bucket, although white, was not sour cream, the cat gradually began to climb out. The painters heard something hit their paint. “He threw a stone at us,” said the more experienced painter and looked into the bucket. A stone of an unusual shape, reminiscent of a cat's head, floated to the surface and suddenly opened his eyes. Out of surprise, the more experienced painter dropped his name brush and said: “Get out! Get out!” pushed the bucket with his foot. The bucket, having turned around in the air twice (Barsik got out of it already on the first turn), was almost just right for a citizen passing by, who wished not to give his last name, and the cat, which had turned white, barely touched the ground, and began to run.

Having scared away the sparrows and pigeons, he crossed the flowerbed and quickly began to climb the first birch tree he came across and climbed along it until it ended.

And in the shade under the birch tree there was a stubborn duel, they played chess. Pensioner Timokhin, nicknamed grandmaster, fought for his life and a bottle of moonshine with pensioner Mironov in a game. Having caught wind of such a significant prize fund, the janitor immediately hung around and, seeing that the match was unjustifiably prolonged, every minute advised either Timokhin or Mironov to sacrifice the queen. The game itself turned out to be extremely boring, and Barsik’s fall from the birch tree on the thirty-eighth move greatly enlivened it. Having skidded a little on the board and scattered the pieces, the cat grabbed Black's queen with his teeth and ran away from the chess players. The janitor was the first to come to his senses, he grabbed a stool and with a terrible cry: “Give up the queen, you bastard!” launched it after the fleeing Barsik.

Statistics show that cats dodge stools very easily. According to the State Statistics Committee, the probability of hitting a running cat with a stool from twenty steps is practically zero. In general, the average cat easily leaves the chair, but the intellectual Skripkin is another matter.

It’s hard to say what Skripkin thought at that moment, but the cry: “Give up the queen, you bastard!” and he clearly took the blow to the back from the stool personally. Shaking his whole body, waving his arms like a ballet and dropping his bag of groceries, he ran to his entrance as fast as he could, and even faster. Barsik, thinking of having a good time, slipped unnoticed into a bag of groceries.

The intellectual Skripkin rushed up the stairs like a bullet (although he always used the elevator) and reached the ninth floor (although he lived on the fourth). The janitor, feeling that somehow everything had turned out badly, picked up the bag and decided to take it to Skripkin, thereby making amends to him. Barsik, feeling how he was lifted and carried, pretended to be dead, rightly believing that he might have been forgiven for a horse or a rook, but they certainly would not have forgiven him for a queen.

Twitching a little more for the sake of decency, Barsik listened: it was quiet, it was time to start eating. Having spat out the queen, the cat, with the understanding of a professional, began to eat the sausage.

About twenty minutes later, the intellectual Skripkin, having caught his breath behind the garbage chute on the ninth floor, was convinced that there was no pursuit, and went down to his home. A few steps from the door lay his bag, smeared inside with white paint. Already in the apartment, Skripkin made an audit of the purchased products. They bought: half a kilo of sausage, a bag of sour cream and two lemons, and what was left was: a bag of sour cream, two lemons (one of them was bitten) and a piece for playing chess. Beside himself with anger at the hooligans, who not only ruined the food, but also violated the bag, Skripkin went out onto the balcony and looked out into the yard. They played chess in the yard; the black ones are pensioners Timokhin and Mironov, the white ones are the janitor, who had little playing experience before and was confused about the pieces. Timokhin moved the inverted rook that replaced the missing queen, and Mironov said: “You’re in check.” "You're swearing!" - the intellectual Skripkin squealed and launched the black and white queen from behind cover. The ill-fated queen plopped down in the center of the board and scattered the rest of the pieces within a radius of three meters.

The terrible cry of the janitor: “I’ll kill you!” I found Barsik on the roof, where he climbed to dry himself. It was boring to dry, its paws stuck to the warm tar, and the cat began to rub its right side against the antenna, which one of the residents had been installing all day yesterday. The antenna fell safely. Looking for something to wipe himself on, the would-be paratrooper, this time down the stairs, went down and went out into the courtyard. What we needed was hanging on the clothesline - an old blanket.

Barsik was absolutely right about the number of mops, but he did not suspect anything about the arsenal of felt boots. Smiling maliciously in anticipation of revenge, the grandmother stretched her arms, made rotational movements, and fired three felt boots in a row. All three felt boots hit the target, one of them even hit Barsik. Another, ricocheting off the head of an experienced painter, took his student by surprise, while the third felt boot hit the back of the janitor, who, having tasted the prize moonshine, was tired of intellectual games and was resting nearby in the sandbox. Both painters swore dirty words, and the janitor woke up and began to sing. Barsik gave in. On the occasion of such a successful throw, the grandmother let out a victorious cry, imitating Tarzan.

Ninth-grader Petya tied a bulldog named Napoleon to his bicycle while he went to the store to buy bread. Napoleon was ordered to sit still, but the instinct that the cat's rapid movement in space awakened in him was too strong. And now the three of them were running: Barsik, Napoleon and a bicycle, the latter ran reluctantly, about which it rang loudly.

Ivan Ivanovich Sidorov went with his daughter to buy her something nice for her birthday; happy, they returned home. The daughter was clutching a Japanese Tamagotchi toy in her hand, and Ivan Ivanovich was carrying a huge cake in his outstretched arms. Then a cat crossed their path. The girl shouted to her dad: “Careful, cat!”, and then “Careful, dog!”, to which Ivan Ivanovich complacently replied: “Yes, I see,” then he caught Napoleon’s leash, but did not fall yet, but balanced himself with the cake, jumping on one leg, and would have held on if the bicycle had not arrived in time. It was as if an enemy bunker had covered the cake that Ivan Ivanovich had just bought. The situation seemed comical to some passers-by and they laughed, but they did it in vain, since Ivan Ivanovich was a large man. Having risen, he did not go into details, but began to distribute slaps left and right. After about ten minutes he finished distributing slaps and switched to kicks. Steklyashkin, who was openly indignant and still wanted to find out by what right he was being kicked, and ninth-grader Petya, who came running in response to the noise and asked Ivan Ivanovich during a short break, had he seen his bicycle and dog, got the worst of it.

In the evening, tired of the bustle of the day, the cat Barsik scratched the door of his home apartment number 35 on the ninth floor with his paw. He was allowed home, and the girl Lena, whom he treated with respect because she usually begged sour cream for him from her parents, just clasped her hands: “This time it’s all white!” Having resigned himself to the fact that he would be washed as punishment, Barsik bowed his head dejectedly. Two hours later, still not washed, the cat was sitting on the lap of the owner, who was stroking him and saying: “Well, where was she? I was worried, I thought you had crashed.” How nice and cozy it was at home, Barsik purred quietly with pleasure and in gratitude for being petted, and thought: “Why are some people so kind and some evil?”

(from industrial sites)

An outside observer could see that a free fall was not part of the cat’s plans, because he, having instinctively waved his paws a couple of times (which didn’t help him much), rolled his eyes and began to scream heart-rendingly, rapidly picking up speed.

Something dark was approaching from above, eclipsing the sun. A second later he realized that it was something not only dark, but also soft.

A couple of minutes later, Uncle Fedya pulled the scratching Barsik away from his face and, spinning him around, threw the stranger back where he came from, that is, up. On the floor above, the plumber Zabuldygin lived and lived and drank away his good fortune, severely suffering from withdrawal symptoms in the mornings. Sitting in the kitchen and looking first at the clock and then out the window, the locksmith thought about the meaning of life. At 10.01, reminiscent of a downed fighter jet in its behavior and roar, a neighbor’s cat flew down. At 10.03 the neighbor's cat flew back, froze for a moment at the highest point of the trajectory; spreading his paws to the sides, he spun around his axis, reminding the mechanic of the Ka-50 “Black Shark” helicopter, and, unable to cope with the laws of physics, much less the laws of aerodynamics, he continued his fall.

Zabuldygin firmly decided to quit drinking.

The unfortunate Barsik flew down, passing floor after floor, and would have reached the ground without incident if he had not come across painters at the third floor level. The painters did nothing wrong. They painted the house, attaching a warning sign to the bottom of their cradle, so that a passerby, turning the corner, first received a few drops of green, or one or two more expensive white paint, and only then looked up and read: “Caution! Painting works!" Barsik, almost without splashing the paint, entered the bucket like a fish (all judges - 9 points). Having made sure that the liquid in the bucket, although white, was not sour cream, the cat gradually began to climb out. The painters heard something hit their paint. “He threw a stone at us,” said the more experienced painter and looked into the bucket.

The janitor was the first to come to his senses, he grabbed a stool and with a terrible cry: “Give up the queen, you bastard!” launched it after the fleeing Barsik. Statistics show that cats dodge stools very easily. According to the State Statistics Committee, the probability of hitting a running cat with a stool from twenty steps is practically zero. In general, the average cat easily leaves the chair, but the intellectual Skripkin is another matter. It’s hard to say what Skripkin thought at that moment, but the cry: “Give up the queen, you bastard!” and he clearly took the blow to the back from the stool personally. Shaking his whole body, waving his arms like a ballet and dropping his bag of groceries, he ran to his entrance as fast as he could, and even faster. Barsik, thinking of having a good time, slipped unnoticed into a bag of groceries.

The intellectual Skripkin rushed up the stairs like a bullet (although he always used the elevator) and reached the ninth floor (although he lived on the fourth). The janitor, feeling that somehow everything had turned out badly, picked up the bag and decided to take it to Skripkin, thereby making amends to him. Barsik, feeling how he was lifted and carried, pretended to be dead, rightly believing that he might have been forgiven for a horse or a rook, but for the queen they certainly would not have been spared.

The janitor went up to the fourth floor and rang the doorbell, at that moment the cat, who had previously pretended to be dead and did not move, began to pretend to be in agony to make it more believable. The bag in the janitor's hands moved ominously, bringing him into indescribable horror. Throwing his moving bag at the door, the honorary broom worker ran down the stairs and hit the doorframe at the finish line. Twitching a little more for the sake of decency, Barsik listened: it was quiet, it was time to start eating. Having spat out the queen, the cat, with the understanding of a professional, began to eat the sausage.

About twenty minutes later, the intellectual Skripkin, having caught his breath behind the garbage chute on the ninth floor, was convinced that there was no pursuit, and went down to his home. A few steps from the door lay his bag, smeared inside with white paint. Already in the apartment, Skripkin made an audit of the purchased products. They bought: half a kilo of sausage, a bag of sour cream and two lemons, and what was left was: a bag of sour cream, two lemons (one of them was bitten) and a piece for playing chess. Beside himself with anger at the hooligans, who not only ruined the food, but also violated the bag, Skripkin went out onto the balcony and looked out into the yard. They played chess in the yard; the black ones are pensioners Timokhin and Mironov, the white ones are the janitor, who had little playing experience before and therefore got confused in the pieces.
Timokhin moved the inverted rook that replaced the missing queen, and Mironov said: “You’re in check.” “You’re swearing!” - the intellectual Skripkin squealed and launched the black and white queen from behind cover. The ill-fated queen plopped down in the center of the board and scattered the rest of the pieces within a radius of three meters.

Looking for something to wipe himself on, the would-be paratrooper, this time down the stairs, went down and went out into the courtyard. What we needed was hanging on the clothesline - an old blanket. Barsik hung on the blanket and pulled it to the ground. This disgrace was seen by the owner of the blanket, an old woman living on the eighth floor, unsociable, angry, but still not without a certain charm given to her by her senile insanity. “Eva, what are you thinking,” said the old woman and began to scare away the cat by shouting “Shoo!” and “Shish!”, but how could that scare Barsik! On the contrary, he turned over on his back and began to crawl on the blanket. The old woman began to whistle, but instead of whistling, an incomprehensible hiss came out, the same hiss that made the neighbors think that the crazy old woman had gotten a snake somewhere.

Both painters swore dirty words, and the janitor woke up and began to sing. Barsik gave in. On the occasion of such a successful throw, the grandmother let out a victorious cry, imitating Tarzan. Ninth-grader Petya tied a bulldog named Napoleon to his bicycle, and he went to the store to buy bread. Napoleon was ordered to sit still, but the instinct that the cat's rapid movement in space awakened in him was too strong. And now the three of them were running: Barsik, Napoleon and the bicycle, the latter ran reluctantly, about which it rang loudly.

It was as if an enemy bunker had covered the cake that Ivan Ivanovich had just bought. The situation seemed comical to some passers-by and they laughed, but they did it in vain, since Ivan Ivanovich was a large man. Having risen, he did not go into details, but began to distribute slaps left and right. After about ten minutes he finished distributing slaps and switched to kicks. The hardest hit was citizen Steklyashkin, who was loudly indignant and still wanted to find out by what right he was being kicked, and ninth-grader Petya, who came running in response to the noise and asked Ivan Ivanovich during a short break if he had seen his bicycle and dog.

Already in the evening, tired of the day's bustle, the cat Barsik scratched the door of his home apartment number 35 on the ninth floor with his paw. He was let home, and the girl Lena, whom he treated with respect because she usually begged sour cream for him from her parents, just clasped her hands: “This time it’s all white!” Having resigned himself to the fact that he would be washed as punishment, Barsik bowed his head dejectedly. Two hours later, still unwashed, the cat sat on the lap of its owner, who stroked him and said: “Where have you been? I was so worried." How nice and cozy it was at home, Barsik purred quietly with pleasure and in gratitude for being petted, and thought: “Why are some people so kind and some evil?”

Night descended on the city, carefully wrapping the streets, houses, and trees in a soft blanket of darkness. Everyone was sleeping, and the hero of our short story was sleeping, curled up on the windowsill. It was calm, cool and nice outside, and somewhere in the silence the chirping of grasshoppers could be heard from time to time. The stars silently winked in the sky, and the moon looked down on the sleeping city and was touched. It was a quiet summer night, and tomorrow... tomorrow will be a new day.

After watching another action or science-fiction film, do you imagine yourself in the place of the main character? Then try to cope with the enemy yourself or solve the tasks that a game from the category available on our website will pose for you. It is no longer you who will need to passively observe the development of events, but your household members, because it is you who will find yourself in the center of everything that happens.

As you know, the World Wide Web is filled with a huge variety of mini-games created for both children and adults. These can be various strategies, puzzles, adventures, puzzles, coloring books and much more. Everyone will find exactly what they like. An excellent choice for those who want to spend time with pleasure and profit will be a game of the genre , which can be downloaded and installed without registration.

Game Magic Adventure begins with the fact that an evil wizard named Klyaksus steals Barsik’s backpack, just before the Day of Knowledge - September 1st. What should I do? How to spend the first of September? It's simple, the fact is that Barsik, like all first-graders, was taken under his wing by the good wizard Ak Bars.

Therefore, he intercepts the backpack from Klyaksus, and then transfers it to the museum for safekeeping. Play with Barsik and his friends Bankomash and Vyruchalochka. They all go together to find the backpack in the museum, and you are invited along on the adventure. The curator of the museum, Hippopotamus, is waiting for your friends there.

The keeper conducts a fascinating tour, leads the children through the halls of the museum, tells stories, and helps return the hero’s school supplies. True, he doesn’t give them away just like that, because in order to get each item you need to complete the task, and then, despite the tricks of the harmful Blob, you can return all the things.

Together with the heroes, your child will be able to show ingenuity, resourcefulness, attention and extraordinary abilities, and then he will be able to cope with all the challenges! The Magical Adventure game is just perfect for a family holiday!

The main characters of the disc:
Barsik is a cute and curious little leopard who is getting ready to go to 1st grade.
Help is an enthusiastic and dreamy girl.
Bankomash is a practical, sensible boy who knows the Tatar language.
Klyaksus is a negative character who harms first-graders and does everything to prevent them from going to school.
The Wizard Ak Bars is a kind fairy-tale hero who loves children very much and always comes to their aid in difficult times.
The curator of the museum, Behemoth, is smart and good-natured, and conducts exciting excursions for children.

System requirements:
- Pentium III, 128 Mb RAM
- Screen resolution 1024x768x32 bits
- 40 Mb of free space
- Video card 32 Mb
- Sound card and speakers, CD-ROM, mouse

Archive size is 61.27 MB. The archive contains a disk image

Several floors below, Uncle Fedya was smoking on the balcony, by the will of fate, crossing the flight path of the cat with his no longer curly head, basking in the sun and from time to time spitting down on the painters, who, due to duty, were suspended in a cradle on the third floor and allegorically swearing Uncle Fedya. Attracted by the unusual sound, Uncle Fedya looked up.
Something dark was approaching from above, eclipsing the sun. A second later he realized that it was something not only dark, but also soft.
The badger grabbed the head of his savior with all available paws and, without ceasing to scream, released his claws in joy. Uncle Fedya did not share the cat’s joy. Having watched enough films about aliens, he classified the object that fell from above as an unidentified flying object and screamed out of fear even louder than Barsik. With their desperate cries, they attracted the attention of the old women hanging out on a bench in the yard. “What a shame!” - one of them concluded, then spat and shook her stick somewhere in the direction of the new buildings.
A couple of minutes later, Uncle Fedya pulled the scratching Barsik away from his face and, spinning him around, threw the stranger back where he came from, that is, up. On the floor above, the plumber Zabuldygin lived and lived and drank away his good fortune, severely suffering from withdrawal symptoms in the mornings. Sitting in the kitchen and looking first at the clock and then out the window, the locksmith thought about the meaning of life. At 10.01, reminiscent of a downed fighter jet in its behavior and roar, a neighbor’s cat flew down. At 10.03 the neighbor's cat flew back, froze for a moment at the highest point of the trajectory; spreading his paws to the sides, he spun around his axis, reminding the mechanic of the Ka-50 “Black Shark” helicopter, and, unable to cope with the laws of physics, much less the laws of aerodynamics, he continued his fall.
Zabuldygin firmly decided to quit drinking.
The unfortunate Barsik flew down, passing floor after floor, and would have reached the ground without incident if he had not come across painters at the third floor level. The painters did nothing wrong. They painted the house, attaching a warning sign to the bottom of their cradle, so that a passerby, turning the corner, first received a few drops of green, or one or two more expensive white paint, and only then looked up and read: “Caution! Painting works!" Barsik, almost without splashing the paint, entered the bucket like a fish (all judges - 9 points). Having made sure that the liquid in the bucket, although white, was not sour cream, the cat gradually began to climb out. The painters heard something hit their paint. “He threw a stone at us,” said the more experienced painter and looked into the bucket.

A stone of an unusual shape, reminiscent of a cat's head, floated to the surface and suddenly opened his eyes. Out of surprise, the more experienced painter dropped his name brush and said: “Get out! Get out!” pushed the bucket with his foot. The bucket, having turned around in the air twice (Barsik got out of it already on the first turn), was almost just right for a citizen passing by, who wished not to give his last name, and the cat, which had turned white, barely touched the ground, and began to run. Having scared away the sparrows and pigeons, he crossed the flowerbed and began to quickly climb the first birch tree he came across. The cat climbed along it until the birch ended.
And in the shade under the birch tree there was a stubborn duel, they played chess. Pensioner Timokhin, nicknamed grandmaster, fought for his life and a bottle of moonshine with pensioner Mironov in a game. Having caught wind of such a significant prize fund, the janitor immediately hung around and, seeing that the match was unjustifiably prolonged, every minute advised either Timokhin or Mironov to sacrifice the queen. The game itself turned out to be extremely boring, and Barsik’s fall from the birch tree on the thirty-eighth move greatly enlivened it. Having skidded a little on the board and scattered the pieces, the cat grabbed Black's queen with his teeth and ran away from the chess players.
The janitor was the first to come to his senses, he grabbed a stool and with a terrible cry: “Give up the queen, you bastard!” launched it after the fleeing Barsik. Statistics show that cats dodge stools very easily. According to the State Statistics Committee, the probability of hitting a running cat with a stool from twenty steps is practically zero. In general, the average cat easily leaves the chair, but the intellectual Skripkin is another matter. It’s hard to say what Skripkin thought at that moment, but the cry: “Give up the queen, you bastard!” and he clearly took the blow to the back from the stool personally. Shaking his whole body, waving his arms like a ballet and dropping his bag of groceries, he ran to his entrance as fast as he could, and even faster. Barsik, thinking of having a good time, slipped unnoticed into a bag of groceries.
The intellectual Skripkin rushed up the stairs like a bullet (although he always used the elevator) and reached the ninth floor (although he lived on the fourth). The janitor, feeling that somehow everything had turned out badly, picked up the bag and decided to take it to Skripkin, thereby making amends to him. Barsik, feeling how he was lifted and carried, pretended to be dead, rightly believing that he might have been forgiven for a horse or a rook, but for the queen they certainly would not have been spared.
The janitor went up to the fourth floor and rang the doorbell, at that moment the cat, who had previously pretended to be dead and did not move, began to pretend to be in agony to make it more believable. The bag in the janitor's hands moved ominously, bringing him into indescribable horror. Throwing his moving bag at the door, the honorary broom worker ran down the stairs and hit the doorframe at the finish line. Twitching a little more for the sake of decency, Barsik listened: it was quiet, it was time to start eating. Having spat out the queen, the cat, with the understanding of a professional, began to eat the sausage.